Discretion and Valor
by lyraonyx
Summary: Draco rescues Harry and crew from Malfoy Manor, but not before telling Harry he had best learn to use his head if he wants to survive. Meanwhile, Severus' head gets used one too many times, and his spying days come to an end. Only together will they find the strength to end the war, at last, and maybe find something to fight for along the way. Fluff/angst, romance, mild slash
1. Part 1

**DISCRETION AND VALOR**

_By Lyraonyx_

_I am not posting much at the moment as my computer is broken and I can't access my longer stories until I can afford to fix it. My son starts preschool in 3 weeks, plus it's his birthday November 2nd, so that won't be for awhile. _

_In the meantime, as this story is already a high T/mild M rating with zero smut, I figured I'd go ahead and post it here. I'm writing it on my phone, so this will be in parts with several chapters rather than individual posts for each chapter._

_Enjoy!_

* * *

**_Discretion and Valor_**

M/M mild slash

Harry Potter/Severus Snape

Hurt/Comfort, Sick!Severus, Manipulative!Dumbledore, Sirius Black is a Jerk, tooth-rotting fluff, fluff and angst, romance, referenced past non-con. ~80k length.

The fluff is strong with this one. If you prefer grit, you're not going to find it here, though there is also plenty of angst (mostly of the tearjerker variety) to be had.

Harry is 18 before anything sexual occurs. There are no written-out sex scenes in this story.

Dumbledore and Sirius are real pricks to Sev in this story. James and Remus are redeemable. Lily, probably not so much. Fair warning.

Full Summary: Draco rescues Harry and crew from Malfoy Manor, but not before telling Harry he had best learn to use his head if he wants to survive. Meanwhile, Severus' head gets used one too many times, and his spying days come to an end. Only together will they find the strength to end the war, at last, and maybe find something to fight for along the way.

* * *

**Chapter 1**

_The Shadow Dragon_

Harry watched his best friend pace their small cell, tears streaking his face, hands balled into white-knuckled fists. Another tortured scream rent the air, and Harry couldn't stand it. He tried the bars again, shaking them with all his might, but they refused to give.

Hours had gone by in this hell, listening to Hermione struggle against their captors and suffer for it. His face still hurt like hell, but no one dared attempt to heal it. If they realized he was Harry Potter, they would just kill them all and be done with it.

He had half begun to wish they would get it over with already. Almost anything would be better than standing here, helpless, while Hermione screamed herself hoarse upstairs.

Then, she stopped, and Harry realized the silence was far worse.

"Hermione!"

It was no good. No doubt, they had the dungeons silenced.

Either that, or Hermione couldn't hear him anymore. Either that, or she was too far gone to—

No. No, he wouldn't allow himself to think that. Hermione was fine. She had to be.

Gods help him, Harry couldn't be responsible for the deaths of anyone else he loved.

This mess was all his bloody fault. He'd lost focus. Those damned hallows had drawn him in. Like Dumbledore, he had given in to their allure.

And now, because of his foolish lapse of forethought, his dearest friend was paying the ultimate price.

No. Hermione had to be alive. They had just… stopped for the night.

_'Please let them have stopped. Please let her be alive.'_

Ron sat down beside him, his expression as tortured as his girlfriend's screams. "I don't think I can do this without her, Harry."

He took Ron's hand and held it tight. "She's alive. I _know _she is. She… she's too strong to…."

Ron nodded, blinking more tears down his face, and squeezed Harry's fingers.

"All will be well soon," said Luna. "The shadow dragon is watching over her."

Harry prayed with all his might that, this time, Luna's creatures had the right of it.

* * *

Another hour or so of agonizing silence passed, then quiet footsteps crossed the ceiling above them. In the darkness, Ron's pained grimace looked all the more dreadful. Harry didn't want to think of how terrible he must look.

He sat frozen, hardly daring to breathe, and strained his ears for the slightest sound. He wished his heart would stop pounding so hard so he might hear over it. For a while, nothing happened. Then, soft clinks of metal and hushed groans met his ears.

Hermione. Oh gods. His heart thundered in his ears. He both hoped for and dreaded the first scream. If she could scream, she wasn't dead. If she could scream, there was still hope, but the house was silent.

Until the door to the dungeons creaked, and socked feet padded down the stairs. Harry jerked up, ready to fight, and opened his mouth to growl at the sight of a lacquered head shining nearly white in the sparse moonlight.

Then, the light shone on a head of matted, wild curls, and his growl caught on a sob.

"Her—"

"Quiet, Potter," Malfoy hissed. "If you wake them up, we'll all be killed."

"Give her over, now," Ron gasped, breathless and furious at once. "Get your slimy paws off—"

Luna cut across him, "Oh, Dragon. Thank Merlin you're safe. Is she awake?"

"Barely." Malfoy laid Hermione on the floor before the bars. "She's in a bad way. You lot need to get her out of here fast."

"In case you hadn't noticed, Ferret," Ron spat, "we're bloody well trapped."

"And you have a former Malfoy house elf in there, do you not?"

Harry choked. "Shite."

Malfoy fixed Harry with a stern look. "She will pull through, and so will you, but you've got to get your head in the game, Potter. You can't just keep running around blindly. This is war, and you're going to have to learn to use your head if you expect to survive."

"And why exactly are _you _telling us this, Ferret?" Ron glared at Malfoy. "You would just throw a party if we did die, so just sod of—"

Harry placed his hand on Ron's chest. "Stop. He's already saved us once tonight. Twice now." He turned back to Malfoy. "But I would like to know why, too."

"It's simple enough, Potter. You and I might not be friends, but the monsters upstairs would sooner murder us all than look at us. I… I'm not going to last long on that side. None of us will."

"Bollocks," Ron spat. "I don't know what you're on about, Malfoy, but I don't trust y—"

"Ron." Harry gave his friend a sharp look. "Enough. There's no time for this." He turned back to Malfoy. "Can you unlock the gate so we can get Hermione out?"

Malfoy nodded. "As soon as you open it, sirens will go off everywhere. Give me one minute to get back into my bedroom first, then open the gate and get out."

"Understood. Are you coming with us?"

Ron gave him a scandalized look. "_Harry_!"

Harry ignored him. "Well?"

Malfoy shook his head. "I can't leave my parents in this mess. They'll be killed."

Harry nodded grimly. "Watch your back then."

"Yes." Malfoy passed Harry their wands, then went to Luna and cupped her cheek. "Be careful. Please."

"We will." She kissed his palm. "The moonwhittlers are watching over us."

"As you say." He rubbed her cheek once, then withdrew reluctantly. "Remember, Potter. One minute."

"I remember."

"Good." Malfoy went to the door, then paused at the threshold. "Good luck. All of you."

"To you as well," Harry replied.

Malfoy nodded and swept away, silent as a cat.

Ron gave Harry a bemused look. "Mate, what the bloody hell just happened?"

"I think Malfoy found a reason to fight for what's right rather than what's easy." Harry nudged Luna's shoulder. "You okay?"

"Yes. He will be okay, too. The moonwhittlers are watching over us all."

Harry stared. "That's… good?"

"Of course, silly."

Ron made to push past him. "Come on. Let's get Hermione and go."

"Wait. Give him thirty more seconds."

"_Harrrryyyy_."

"Ron. Grow up. Unless you want his blood on your hands when we all owe him a life debt?"

Ron gulped. "On second thought, we can wait a bit."

Harry rolled his eyes and regretted it immediately. "Ugh. Ow. Bloody hurts to move." He took a deep breath. "Okay, that's long enough."

He pushed the gate open and grimaced at the blare of a siren in his ear. With a groan, he grabbed Hermione's hand and cried, "Dobby, now!"

"Dobby is happy to helps." The elf snapped his fingers, and they were gone.

* * *

**CHAPTER 2 **

_Keeping Secrets_

Shell Cottage was a lovely place, but between Harry's worries about the cup and Hermione's injuries, he hadn't much time to enjoy it. He stared out the guest room window, watching the waves buffet the cliffs and half wishing he could sail away on them. No dark lords on the high seas. Or at least not many.

"What do we do now, Harry? How the hell are we going to get the cup?"

Harry sighed and slumped onto the bed beside Ron. He had been asking the same question for hours while they waited for Hermione to recover. Harry had no more answers now than he had at the start of this mess.

"I don't know, Ron. We have to get it somehow, but at this point, we'll have to steal it to have any hope of ending the war."

Ron paled. "From _Gringotts_? That's suicide, mate!"

Harry cocked his head, considering. "It's been done. First year, remember?"

"Harry, that vault was empty. You're talking about stealing something valuable from one of the oldest, most heavily-guarded vaults in one of the most secure banks the world over. And the cup itself is bound to be cursed, too."

Harry frowned. "Damn. We'd need help then. Inside help."

"From who? Bill doesn't have access to the vaults."

"No, but Griphook does."

Ron grimaced. "Harry… goblins don't do anything for free. And even if you could get him to agree to this, which I doubt, the price is liable to be more than we can pay. And even if we can pay it, he's likely to turn traitor on us the second he has what he wants."

Harry hugged his chest. "Do you have a better idea?"

"Mate, just about anything is a better idea than trying to get a bloody _goblin _to help us rob Gringotts. They're loyal to the bank, Harry. Not their word. We'll end up dead or blacklisted."

Harry huffed and flopped back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling. "Shite. Then I'm out of ideas."

Ron nodded grimly. "You were right about one thing: we need help. Just not from Griphook."

"Who then? Hermione's still woozy."

"Oh, I don't know, maybe a bloody Gringotts cursebreaker?"

Harry flushed. "Oh. Right."

Ron snorted and nudged Harry's knee. "Berk. Trying to get a goblin to rob their own bank."

Harry laughed and covered his face. "Right. Not my brightest moment."

"I'll say."

"Oi!"

Ron snickered. "That's using your head all right."

Harry sobered. "Yeah. I'd really better stop being so damn Gryffindor and find some of that Slytherin cunning the hat swore I had."

"No one said you had to go that far, mate."

"Prat."

* * *

Severus stood stoic and silent as the dark lord paced the throne room dais, never taking his eyes off of the beast's wand. Today, Lucius served as the dark lord's outlet for anger management, but in this kind of mood, the dark lord could change his mind at any moment.

"We _had _them," the dark lord hissed. "Fools. Where the mudblood girl and blood traitor boy go, Potter goes also. We _had them _in our grasp. And because of your lax security, Lucius, they have, yet again, escaped our clutches."

Lucius hacked and coughed blood onto the floor. Dear gods. The man wasn't long for the world, even if Riddle did not murder him outright.

Severus caught Draco paling and trembling out of the corner of his eye. Oh Merlin. Had _Draco _helped them escape?

The boy mouthed an apology to Lucius when no one was looking, and Severus quickly looked away. Best to pretend he had seen nothing, or the entire Malfoy line would perish before the day ended.

He banished all thoughts of Draco's loyalties to the back of his mind and pulled thoughts of searching for Harry's whereabouts to the fore. To blank his mind completely would seal his fate. Instead, Severus had to use fragments of truth to conceal the whole of it. Bits of true memories to keep him from looking deeper.

As the most advanced type of Occlumency, it took great concentration to maintain. Particularly here, where distractions abounded and he needed his wits about him most.

It was a dangerous game, but Severus had mastered it long ago.

Lucius groaned and hacked up more blood. A cold weight of lead sank into Severus' belly. Gods, he hated hearing his one-time fairweather friend suffering like this. And his godson… Merlin, the boy was miserable.

"Severus."

Shite. He pulled his focus away from Draco and hastily restored his memory fragments of searching for Harry.

"Yes, my lord?"

"Have you heard any hint as to his location?"

Severus suppressed a flinch at the press of Legilimency against his skull.

"No, my lord. The fool professors do not trust me, and neither do the students. I have had my ear to the ground, but as of yet, I have heard no—"

"Stop."

The pressure on his skull increased, and Severus stood frozen as the dark lord extracted a shred of memory. A memory he hadn't meant to allow in front of his shields.

_"Headmaster! I heard the mudblood—"_

_Severus whirled on the portrait of Phineas Nigellus Black. "Do not speak that word in my presence!"_

_Phineas scowled. "Oh, very well. The Muggleborn girl, then. I heard her as she was searching in her bag. They are in the Forest of Dean."_

The memory ended, and the silence after reverberated in Severus' ears. He dared not breathe.

"Ssso," Riddle hissed, "the Forest of Dean, him? How strange that this information never reached me."

Severus fought to remain placid. "It was not the Granger girl, my lord. Just a worthless brat with—"

"With access to a Black family portrait?"

Severus forced himself to nod, though he knew the madman wouldn't buy it. To do anything less would ensure his death. Not a quick one, either.

"_Crucio_!"

Severus dropped, fighting not to scream. His bones broke and healed, his organs melted and regenerated, his skin peeled and cracked and closed again, and still, Severus did not break.

He had endured it before.

The curse lifted, and Severus leaned on his knees, panting and trembling all over.

"I begin to wonder, Severus, if you are truly as loyal as you appear."

"I live to serve you, my lord."

"And yet, you deliberately withheld information from me. Information that might have brought the Potter brat within my grasp."

"My lord, I—"

"Crucio!"

Another blast of the pain curse ripped a quiet squeal from Severus' throat, but he managed not to scream, somehow.

"I tire of your excuses, Severus. You will bring the Potter boy to me within two weeks, or I will replace you."

And that was it. Severus' spying days had come to an end.

Well, at least he might be able to make some sort of difference for the light before Riddle killed him through the mark. And at least he need not act like a total arsehole for the last two or three weeks of his life.

For now, however, he had to appear obeisant. He let a flicker of fear show on his features, a glimmer of doubt. Best not to let the dark lord believe Severus thought he might accomplish such a feat with ease.

"Yes, my lord."

If nothing else, Severus could be thankful that those appalling words need never cross his lips again. That alone would make his final days sweet.

* * *

Bill sat across from Harry and Ron, dragging his chain and dragon fang pendant across his chin. A deep furrow creased his brow, and worry turned his blue eyes grey.

"Well, I can tell you one thing, Harry," he said after a long silence. "Ron's exactly right. Trying to rob a high security vault in Gringotts, especially with a goblin's 'help,' will see you all blacklisted from the bank and dead or in Azkaban before the night is out."

"We know that, Bill." Harry refused to squirm. Yes it had been a bad idea, but he was desperate. "What we don't know is how to get it without stealing."

"There isn't a way. You would have to buy it off the Lestranges, and especially if this cup is important to You-Know-Who, that's not happening."

Harry winced. "But we _have _to get it! We can't win the war without it!"

"Hufflepuff's cup?"

"Yeah," Ron affirmed. "We've got to get it somehow. It's the only way."

Bill huffed. "What possible bearing—"

"Please, Bill," Harry begged. "We're desperate, and you're the only one who can help."

Bill rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Harry, for Merlin's sake, what is so important about that damn cup?"

Harry looked away. "Dumbledore said not to tell anyone."

"And Dumbledore always made the right decisions, did he?"

Harry's breath caught. He whipped his head around and stared, wide-eyed at Bill. "I… what?"

"You heard me."

Ron boggled. "Bill, mate, what are you on about?"

Bill leaned back in his chair and sighed. "Look, I get that Dumbledore thought it was dangerous to talk about this, but the man was fallible. He made a lot of questionable decisions while he lived, and dumping the heaviest burden of the war on three teenagers is probably among the worst."

Harry dropped his head. "You don't think I can do it?"

"I think you never should have had to do it alone, Harry. That's all I'm saying. Maybe we can't deliver the killing blow, but we can damn well beat the bastard down for you first, and we never got Dumbledore to understand that."

Harry blinked hard, overwhelmed at Bill's wish to support him. "Thanks." It came out rough and raw.

Bill squeezed his shoulder. "Ron, Harry, I can help you, if you let me. I'm a curse breaker and an order member. I know dark objects, and I know how the bank works. I can help, if you'll tell me what I'm helping with."

"But Dumbledore…."

"Harry, the blunt truth is that Dumbledore was too damn secretive. He shouldn't have taken everything onto himself, nor should he have dumped such heavy burdens onto you and Snape."

"_Snape_?" Harry snarled. "That bastard deserves every bit of trouble he's got."

"Yeah, Bill," Ron said, voice sharp. "Why would you bother to defend that traitor?"

Bill shook his head and stood. "Maybe you kids don't get it, but curse breakers pick up a lot of titbits in our work. Uncommon knowledge, if you will. And one thing I learned while working on the DADA curse for Hogwarts is that the school is sentient. She _chooses _her leaders. And that means she chose Snape."

He moved to the door. "I don't know what the whole story is about Snape, but rest assured that _we _don't know it either. Think about that and what it means, then come find me when you want to talk. Until then, there's nothing I can do to help you."

He walked out, leaving a gobsmacked Ron and Harry behind.

Ron whispered to Harry, "Do you reckon that's true, mate? About the school?"

Harry hesitated. "It can't be, Ron. I saw Snape kill him. Why would Hogwarts choose a murderer and a traitor as her headmaster?"

Ron frowned and nodded, though he looked uncertain about it. "Yeah. I reckon you're right."

Harry reckoned so, too. He had to be right.

Didn't he?

* * *

**CHAPTER 3 **

_Swift Retribution_

Severus had to move quickly. Riddle would know soon, without a doubt, that Severus had no intention of bringing Potter to him. If there remained agents of the dark within Hogwarts when that happened, none of them would survive for long.

For now, his mark remained inert. He still had ttime. And he had best take advantage of it while he could.

He slipped into his potions stores and beyond the blood-warded gate that protected his most dangerous brews. A certain acid green concoction, Instant Sleep, would serve his purposes well. Its somewhat innocuous name belied the grim efficacy of the illegal, untraceable poison. One drop on the tongue or even the lips would ensure that his enemies never woke again.

He pocketed the brew and warded his robe against accidental absorption. A pair of dragon hide gloves would protect his hands; he placed those in his other pocket along with a poison-resistant eyedropper.

He returned to his office and took a steadying breath, thanking his lucky stars that all the portraits had gone to sleep. It had been decades since he had killed in cold blood—_"Severus, please." Silver hair flying, green light glaring, moonlight on an empty parapet where his mentor had once stood_—and he didn't look forward to it now. He reminded himself that the Carrows were monsters and to let them live meant condemning innocents to die.

It did not comfort him, much.

Still, it had to be done. He gathered his courage and checked the clock. Four A.M.. The Carrows had stayed behind during the meeting to keep control of the school, and by now, even those two would have stopped hunting for innocent children to torture and retired for the evening. Even so, Severus hadn't survived this long as a spy by leaving things to chance.

"Hogwarts," he whispered, "are the dangerous ones sleeping?"

Hogwarts showed him mental images of both Carrows, fast asleep in their shared quarters.

"Thank you. Please take me inside their quarters and bypass any wards and alarms. Headmaster's emergency prerogative."

She paused, and Severus sensed a pressure on his mind, gentler than Legilimency but insistent nevertheless. Severus opened his mind to her, knowing she would not let him pass unless he proved a life-or-death emergency existed. He showed her his memories of the death eater meeting and conclusions about what awaited the school if the Carrows were not dealt with.

Hogwarts hesitated, uncertain. She did not like the idea of killing done within her walls.

"I know, milady. I am not happy about it either, but they are the leaders of the dark here. If I do not kill them, they will report my actions against us. Then I shall be killed, as well as any student or teacher who crosses them once I am gone."

A sense of dismay flooded him, then soothing warmth wrapped around his chest, as if Hogwarts was giving him a hug. She loved him. She had watched over him for nearly forty years and aided him while he worked in secret to keep all the students and staff as safe as he could.

With a rush of grief, he felt Hogwarts' acceptance of the situation, however uncertainly, and Severus reassured her all would be well, soon. He didn't feel it himself, but she needed to hear it. He felt a sense of sorrow-tinged irony and knew Hogwarts understood the futility of such a statement. Still, she seemed to appreciate his desire to help her and wrapped him in another hug nonetheless.

The next moment, Severus found himself standing in the Carrows' living area. He sent the school a silent thank you and cast several spells to mask his presence. Hogwarts' presence faded to a sorrowful seed of awareness in the back of his mind, allowing him to focus on what must be done.

He put on his gloves and cast a bubblehead charm, then reached out for the Carrows' auras, seeking to find Alecto. As the most dangerous and skilled of the pair, it was imperative that Severus take her out first.

The door on the left called out to his senses. A gaudy Carrows coat of arms hung at eye level against the wood and a painted motto outlined the shield above and below: _"sanguinis pura potentia."_ He scowled at the blatantly blood purist propaganda and checked the door for any wards Hogwarts may have missed. He found evidence of a disabled physical trap—poisoned garrote wire—and shuddered as he spelled the door open. That would have been unpleasant.

Alecto lay twisted in the covers, face just visible in a shaft of moonlight. Without the evil that forever branded her features, she might have had some small beauty. She looked fragile like this. Peaceful. A lethal illusion Severus could not fall prey to. He ignored the stab of guilt and grief in his chest and cautiously removed the poison and dropper from his pockets.

With extreme care, he first ensured Alecto would not wake, then uncapped the poison, set its cap to hover nearby, and pulled a minuscule amount of poison into the dropper. Slowly, he edged forward, hardly daring to breathe, until the dropper hovered just over Alecto's lips.

He sent a silent prayer for forgiveness up to whatever deity might be listening, steeled his resolve, and squeezed the dropper.

* * *

Hermione returned to full consciousness just as dawn crept over the horizon. Harry had been asleep in the chair beside her bed, rest having eluded him the night before, and he jerked awake at her groan of pain.

"Hermione!"

He rejoiced at the sound of her voice. She was okay! Or conscious, at least. He prayed the torture hadn't stripped her mental facilities as he uncapped the pain potion at her bedside and slid a gentle arm beneath her shoulders.

"Welcome back, 'Mione," he said, keeping his voice low so as not to wake the others. "I've got a pain potion here for you. Just open your mouth a bit… there we are." He helped her to take the potion slowly and filled a glass with conjured water. "Want a drink?"

"Please," she said, voice raspy but coherent.

Relieved, Harry helped her drink half of the water, and when she turned away, lay her upon the pillows again. "How are you feeling, 'Mione? Anything still hurting? Can you think okay?"

"I'm perfectly sane, Harry, and not in too much pain now that you've given me a draught for it. How did we escape, though? I thought I saw Draco Malfoy, but I'm almost sure it was a dream, or perhaps a hallucination."

"No, it was real, but let me call Ron first. He's been going spare without you. And Fleur, so she can make sure you're healing okay."

She gave him a tired smile and nodded.

Another hour passed before Fleur left them to talk, satisfied that she had done all she could. Once she had gone, Harry and Ron told Hermione of Draco's apparent defection and aid.

"Merlin," Hermione breathed. "He really did rescue me. I thought I had gone mad."

"Don't say that," said a pained Ron. "We were terrified you would be."

She gave him a sorrowful smile. "Oh, Ron. I'm okay. Just surprised. How in Merlin's name did Draco end up with Luna?"

"Luna's here too," Harry said. "She's recovering the next room over. And she told us that Malfoy's been sneaking down to the dungeons with food, medicine, and water all this time. She said he talked to her a lot, about everything he was going through and how much he wanted to get them out, and along the way, they fell in love. He would have saved them sooner, but knew his family would be blamed if he did. We gave him the opportunity to act."

Hermione frowned. "More like forced him to act, especially if he truly is on our side. He couldn't let you be killed, and he knew that stinging hex wouldn't hide you forever."

Harry grimaced. "Damn. I hope he's okay."

"Yeah. So do I." She squeezed Ron's hand, who had claimed Harry's former seat and hovered as close to Hermione as he could get without hurting her. "Are you two okay? They didn't torture you, right?"

"Oh, I'm sure we were next on the bracket had Malfoy not grown a conscience first," said Ron. "But no, we weren't tortured, and Fleur healed that stinging hex the minute we got here."

"How did Dobby bring you here? He's never _been _here, has he?"

Harry shrugged. "He brought us to Bill. That was here."

Hermione rubbed her lips. "So house elves can track people. Hmm."

"Don't tell me you're going to ask a house elf for help," said Ron with a wry grin. "Sure you're okay in there?"

She rolled her eyes. "Prat. I'm fine." She rubbed her arms and shuddered. "It's just that being there, what they did to me… what they threatened to do… it brought it home to me how dangerous this war really is. I might not like the idea of asking a house elf for help, but until this is over, I reckon I had best get over it."

Ron nodded grimly. "We're all doing things we never thought we'd do. We _have _to if we expect to survive."

Harry nodded and hugged his waist. "Never imagined I'd think stealing was a good idea, for sure."

Hermione's brow creased. "Stealing? Why?"

Ron snorted. "Oh, this prat thought it would be a grand lark to try to convince Griphook to help us bloody _steal _the cup from the Lestrange vault."

Hermione fixed Harry with her sternest _look_. The bruises and healing cut on her face hadn't diminished its impact in the least.

"_Harry_."

"I'm not going to do it! Merlin. I just couldn't think of what else to do." He sighed and leaned on his knees. "I still can't."

Ron shook his head. "You know, mate, I'm starting to think Bill might be our only choice."

"But Dumbledore said not to tell anyone."

"And Dumbledore also apparently helped murder his sister and snogged a dark lord."

"He changed, though," Harry protested, though it sounded uncertain at best even to his own ears.

"Did he though? Yeah, maybe he worked out that dark magic and killing Muggles wasn't the best way to go about doing things, but he still liked to keep all the cards to himself, you know? He still wanted to control everything."

"And everyone," Hermione added. "I think Ron is right, Harry. We've been struggling to think of a way to get the cup and failing all year. We just don't have the resources to do it alone. And Bill is trustworthy."

Harry hugged his chest and whispered, "But… if Dumbledore isn't to be trusted… what does that mean for me?"

"Oh, Harry." Hermione squeezed his hand. "We didn't say that Dumbledore was a bad man, simply flawed like every other human being. This just means he made a mistake, not that we can't trust him."

"Oh. Yeah."

But Harry had begun to wonder. Would a good man, as Bill had said, pile the entire burden of the war onto one child and raise him as a weapon against evil? Would he leave said child weapon with abusive relatives?

_"What doesn't kill you…."_

Had it been intentional?

Harry shuddered and shoved his dark thoughts aside. No. Dumbledore mightn't be perfect, but he was still good. Had to be. After all, he'd fought Grindelwald, too, hadn't he?

Harry shook himself. Best not to keep thinking on it. He had more important things to worry about.

"Hermione, you really think we need to tell Bill?"

She rubbed Harry's fingers. "Yes. I think we're lost without his help."

Harry sighed and patted her shoulder. "I'll go get him."

* * *

**CHAPTER 4**

_Four Heads are Better than Three_

Severus woke from a short, troubled nap and stumbled into the shower. He hadn't time to sleep, not like he needed to. Any moment, the dark lord would realize the Carrows had been… disposed of and Severus' clock would begin ticking. He had to hurry. Liberal use of potions would work in place of sleep for now.

Soon, he would be sleeping far more than he liked anyway.

He staggered out after a quick wash, downed a full bottle of Pepper-Up and waited for the steam to clear. Ah. Much better.

Feeling refreshed if not well-rested, Severus dressed and gathered the tools he would need to complete the next phase of his plan. He would make Hogwarts as safe as possible before he succumbed to the inevitable, so help him.

Thank Merlin it was Sunday. He had at least a full day before classes began and the mini-death eaters began questioning the absence of the only teachers who favoured them. They would report his treachery to Riddle soon enough, but Severus would prefer to have the wards completed before the dark lord turned his mark against him.

It would be more difficult to concentrate while he was slowly dying, after all.

Thank Merlin the last ward he intended to place would rely upon the power of the four heads of house more than the headmaster's. He needed all his strength for the initial casting, but after that, he could lean on others and offer support rather than acting as the sole caster.

Assuming he could convince them to believe him, that was.

Merlin, he had to hurry. Quickly, he gathered all the necessary ingredients, potions, and power-amplifying crystals into a basket. That finished, he wolfed down a small breakfast, drank a glass of orange juice for the energy boost, and headed for the heart of Hogwarts: the wardstone chamber.

As he descended the staircase into the magical core of the school, he whispered, "Will you aid me in keeping the evil ones from our youth, milady?"

Hogwarts wrapped him in a hug and stayed with him all the way down.

Severus' heart pattered as he opened the chamber door. He'd heard it described when Albus had prepared him for his term as headmaster, but as he stepped inside and saw the ward room with his own eyes, he knew words could never do it justice.

Severus stood at the edge of a paneled circular room with white stone walls that glittered in the light. Quartz? Perhaps. Silver and gold trim cut to depict scenes from the founders' lives bordered the top and bottom of the walls, and golden trees stretched down between each panel of stone, their branches and roots spanning the edges of the border mural to create an arch-like effect. There were no windows, but a swirl of every colour illuminated the room nonetheless, reflecting off the stones and metal to make the scenes appear to move, though they were not animated.

And in the centre, on a plinth of marble, silver, and gold, sat the wardstone, a giant, multi-faceted opal with a silver glow all around. At the four points of the compass, symbols of the elements decorated the hardwood floors.

Severus' breath caught at the sheer beauty of the place.

As he approached the stone, feeling reverent and at peace for perhaps the first time in his life, a tingle of magic swept over him. The intent wards. Anyone with ill intent who approached this place would be Obliviated and tossed from the room, never to be allowed to return. He held his breath as the magic engulfed him, pausing at his dark mark, but then seeking beyond it to find the core of the man within.

Never had Severus prayed so hard to be found worthy. This time, he risked more than his honour or a long-dead friendship. This time, hundreds of young lives depended on him.

And perhaps because he came here seeking absolution not for his own purposes, but for others, he might be judged worthy enough this time. Enough for acceptance without strings attached.

That would be a novel thing, for certain.

The magic flickered into his chest and mind. He let it in, revealing his purpose here, laying his soul bare to the heart of the school. He hardly dared hope to be accepted—Merlin knows he had screwed up in life enough to be thrown from here on his ear—but then, a rush of warmth like Hogwarts' hugs enveloped him from head to toe, empowered him, left him practically buzzing on the high of its strength.

Oh Merlin, he had _passed_. The wards had let him in. For once in his miserable life, he had not fallen short.

He blinked a few silent tears down his face. Here, there was no one to harm him for his rare display of vulnerability, and it felt so good to know that Hogwarts, at least, believed in him.

With a shuddering breath, he composed himself and let the power of Hogwarts, the wards, and his own formidable core build inside him. He was ready.

He placed his hands on the wardstone, cleared all other thoughts save those to do with his intent from his mind, and began to chant.

* * *

Harry led Bill into Hermione's room, nerves jangling and heart conflicted. Were they doing the right thing? He just kept coming back to the worry that if Dumbledore could be wrong on this, he might have also been wrong about other things, and where did that leave Harry?

It was a thought he didn't want to contemplate.

It was easier to depend on Dumbledore's wits and knowledge to guide them. Easier to do as they always had done and trust the old man to know what to do.

The idea that maybe he hadn't known after all and Harry might need to rely entirely on his own wits and strength in the battles yet to come left him nauseated with terror. He was a seventeen-year-old boy. What did he know of strategy and war and obscure dark magic?

Well, he knew one thing, he supposed. He knew damn well that Riddle had to die, and if letting Bill in on their secret in spite of the old man's wishes was the only way to do it, then so be it.

A rush of courage bolstered Harry's resolve. Yes. They hadto do this. Whether or not Dumbledore had had all the answers, _Harry_ did not, and he trusted Bill.

It would be okay.

With a deep breath, Harry steeled himself, then locked and warded the door behind them. Not that he didn't trust Fleur, but letting Bill in on their secret was difficult enough.

"Right."

He conjured chairs for Bill and himself near Hermione's bed. Ron had already claimed the one at her bedside.

"Okay, Bill. You wanted to know why we need the cup so badly, and we've decided to tell you. I needn't mention that speaking of this is highly dangerous and difficult. So, keep it to yourself, please."

Bill frowned. "Of course I won't share it about, but if you expect me to gain the bank's cooperation, I'll have to tell at least one goblin, probably more like two or three, but I can bind them all to secrecy and test them for intent beforehand. Or, even better, we can do that _and _bind your secret to a _Fidelius_. That way, no one but one of you could ever reveal it. We'd just have to get you to Gringotts so you can tell them, but a bit of polyjuice and planning will have that sorted."

Harry gaped. "Mother of Merlin, why didn't we think of that sooner?"

Bill chuckled. "Concentrating on other things too hard, I reckon."

Harry flushed. Like his single-minded focus on the hallows. He had learned his lesson there, to be sure.

"Er, yeah. Probably. Anyway, let's definitely bind the secret to a _Fidelius_. I'd feel a lot safer if we could guarantee no one can talk about it but us."

Ron snorted wryly. "Figures that we haven't even told him about the things yet and he's already helped us."

Harry suppressed a flinch. It seemed their theory on Dumbledore's fallibility would play out.

"Y-yeah. Well, it's like this, Bill. Riddle is obsessed with immortality, and he'd do anything to achieve it." Harry took a steadying breath. "Even hack his soul into seven pieces and store the fragments in hiding places all over Britain."

Bill went ashen. "Horcruxes. He made _six_? And Dumbledore has three teenagers hunting for them? Bloody fucking _hell_."

The teens gaped, having never heard Bill use such strong language before.

Bill raked a hand through his hair. "Shite. Well, that's bad news. How many have you cleaned, and do you know what the others are?"

Harry nodded. "We've destroyed three. Slytherin's locket that we liberated from Umbridge, the ring that cursed Dumbledore, and the journal that possessed Ginny."

"Holy fuck, that journal was a _horcrux_?" Bill shuddered. "Merlin, poor Ginny. And wait, Dumbledore sent kids after horcruxes when one of them hit him with a bloody _fatal curse_? What in the name of Morgana was he _thinking_?"

Harry opened his mouth to speak, then paused. The curse on Dumbledore's arm was fatal? Why hadn't he said so?

Bill huffed and flopped against the back of his chair. "Well, that's three. Do you lot know what the others are?"

"The cup, obviously," said Hermione.

"So that's why you want it so badly."

"Yeah," said Ron. "He'll never die unless we get it."

"Fair point. And the other two?"

Harry shuddered. "Riddle's snake and something of Ravenclaw's. Some famous artefact like the cup and the locket. There's nothing left of Gryffindor's but the sorting hat and the sword, and we know for sure that Riddle didn't corrupt those."

Bill rubbed his chin. "You know, I think I remember hearing about a crown or something when I was in Hogwarts. Dated a Ravenclaw or two. They said it was supposed to make anyone who wore it more intelligent, but that it's been lost for centuries."

Harry's heart thumped. "A crown?"

"Yes. Let me think. If I remember correctly, they said the Grey Lady knew about it, but wouldn't tell anyone who asked."

"Merlin!" Ron grinned. "Best lead we have so far. We'll talk to her when we go back to Hogwarts after it. We're all sure he's hidden the last horcrux there, somewhere."

Harry frowned. He thought he remembered… but no, it was gone. Damn. Maybe seeing the school again would jog his memory.

Hermione shook her head. "So we hope, anyway. Maybe she'll talk if she understands how important it is and that we're not after it to use it to cheat on exams or some such rubbish."

"Now that's an idea," Ron said with a wistful sigh.

"Prat. That kind of attitude isn't going to convince her to speak up."

"No, s'pose not. I'll let you two do the talking then."

"That's probably for the best." Harry crossed his arms over his chest. "Well, can you help us, Bill? Er… with the cup, I mean?"

Bill nodded. "You're in luck. The goblins don't allow anything with soul magic to be stored in Gringotts. And, even better, we don't need to take it out of the vault permanently to get rid of the horcrux. All I have to do is clean the horcrux out, then we can return the cleaned cup to the proper owners." He gave them a feral grin. "Not that it will do them any good when Gringotts blacklists them for knowingly keeping soul-cursed objects in their vault."

"They're not the proper owners anyway," said Ron. "Riddle stole it from Hepzibah Smith, then murdered her."

Bill shook his head. "Poor woman, but that's good news for us. That means Riddle will be blacklisted, too. Goblins, in general, don't care about our wars, but they _loathe _thieves."

Harry grinned back. "Brilliant. That'll put a dent in Riddle's fundi—wait a minute." He stared, wide-eyed, at Bill. "Wait. You know a spell to remove a horcrux without destroying the vessel?"

Bill frowned. "Yeah, all senior cursebreakers do. It's much safer than destroying it. It stops the horcrux from trying to attack you while you work. Don't tell me you didn't know?"

Harry's gut dropped like a stone. "No. Merlin."

Hermione grimaced. "We should have told you a lot sooner, Bill."

"No," Harry said, voice shaky. "Dumbledore should have told him."

Ron gave him a pained look. "Yeah."

* * *

**Chapter 5**

_No Surrender_

A weary Severus dragged himself to the Great Hall that evening. Not even a full six hours of rest had restored his energy after altering the wards. Of course, the burning in his arm that started halfway through his nap hadn't let him rest much.

His time was running out. Thank Merlin, he had only one last mission before he gave into the peace of death, perhaps three more if he survived the first, but before he could complete any of them, he needed to see with his own eyes how many threats had walked around Hogwarts undetected. How many Albus had let stay on in hopes of bringing them back to the Light.

Most of those students had never had a chance, but Severus never said so. After all, he had come back, eventually. Perhaps others might, too.

Well, they might have done before tonight. With the dark swiftly taking over Britain and his own life drawing to a close, the time had come to draw a line in the sand, at least at Hogwarts. They could afford no further leniency with so many lives at stake. Those who had aligned with the Dark would have to make their own way now.

In his weariness, Severus arrived to dinner late. By the scowls on the faces of his colleagues and remaining students, he gathered that they had hoped he had disappeared, too. It hurt, but he had long since accustomed himself to pain.

Severus ignored the steadily increasing burn in his arm and the hollow ache in his chest and swept his eyes along the student tables. Merlin. So many, gone. So many, lost to darkness before their lives had even begun.

Half of the Slytherins had vanished, mostly the upper years. A solid quarter of the Ravenclaw table had vanished, too. And a healthy percentage of Gryffindor and Hufflepuff upper years had disappeared along with them.

No, death eaters did not come only from Slytherin, and yet, his own house had suffered hard. It was unavoidable. The dark preyed on the snakes first, and it showed. He had only four seventh years left: Blaise Zabini, Daphne Greengrass, Lily Moon, and Tracey Davis. Merlin.

With a sad sigh for those he had failed to save, he turned to his colleagues with intent to call the heads forward.

The empty space between Aurora and Hagrid left him cold. Septima. He never would have suspected the cheerful, unassuming Arithmancy professor to be an agent of the dark, and yet, her absence was telling.

Unless the Carrows had gotten to her first.

He shuddered and waved the heads forward.

"Minerva, Horace, Filius, Pomona, please come to the podium."

As she approached, Minerva spat, "I suppose we have you to thank for the loss of a third of our students and one of our professors?"

"Three professors, actually," Severus murmured, not that the Carrows deserved the title. "And yes, but all is not what it appears."

Minerva's eyes flashed. "You monster. What have you _done_?"

Severus repressed a flinch at her vituperative fury. "I have done all I can to keep us safe." With that, he turned from the heads and faced the chattering student body. "Silence."

The students quieted, but if glares could kill, Severus would have disintegrated on the spot.

"I am sure you have noticed that many of your fellows are no longer among us. That is not an accident."

Murmurs of "murderer," and "traitor" filled the air, but Severus ignored them as best as he could. They were true, if not in the way the students thought.

"You see, I have not been as loyal to the dark as it would appear. I am, or was until last night, a spy for the Light."

Minerva went stock-still. "Severus…."

Her tone might have cut through stone. It certainly cut Severus. He ignored it, too, and carried on.

"Albus' death was not what it appeared. The curse in his arm was killing him slowly. He asked—or rather, demanded—that I use his impending death to benefit the greater good. So that, when his time came, I would catapult through the ranks of the death eaters and secure the headmastership of the school. So that I could, while appearing to maintain a mask of evil, protect you from the true monsters among us to the best of my ability."

He lowered his head. "I am aware that I have not always been successful in this endeavour. I will not dare to ask your forgiveness. I have harmed you though I tried to shield you, and there is no forgiveness for such betrayal."

He lifted his head once more. "But the time for such masks has come and gone. I have been discovered as a spy, and my remaining time is short. Knowing this, I have done, and will continue to do, what I am able to protect Hogwarts."

Minerva hissed, "And how do you explain the fact that a third of our students and one of our professors are missing?" She did not acknowledge the Carrows, of course, not that Severus blamed her.

"I am coming to that." Severus held himself in readiness to be attacked. "Last night, at approximately four AM, I snuck into the Carrows' quarters and… ensured that they will never harm another human being again, nor will they be able to aid their master in the battles to come."

Minerva gasped. "Severus… you murdered them?"

He closed his eyes. "I did what I must to protect the students." He blinked rapidly, but failed to stop the slow slide of tears down his face. "It has scarred me, but I was never whole regardless. Better that I bear the guilt for their blood than an innocent should suffer the same fate."

The hall went deathly silent. Severus carried on despite the break in his voice. He always had done.

"After I ensured they would do no further harm, I entered the core of Hogwarts to alter the wards." He tensed in preparation for a blow. "I altered them to ward out any student or professor who was loyal to the dark lord."

Gasps and mutters filled the hall as the students looked around, taking stock of who was missing.

Minerva cried, "You do not intend to tell me that Septima was loyal to Riddle, do you?"

Severus nodded grimly. "I assure you, it shocked me as well." He turned back to the students and held their gazes in turn. "And now, there is only one thing left for me to do."

With a deep breath to steel his resolve, Severus sank to his knees and bowed his head.

"I… surrender myself to your mercy. If you will kill me, I shall not resist. All I ask is that, before you enact justice upon my soul, you will allow me to pass on Albus' final instructions for Harry into worthier hands."

The hall went silent again, then shouts echoed off the walls, reverberated in Severus' ears. The students stood and made to rush the dais. Severus winced and jerked a phial from his pocket, already full of the memories Harry would need to see and charmed to be unbreakable.

"Minerva." He passed her the phial, clenched his fists on his knees, and waited for the first curse to fall.

It never came. A shadow fell across his lap, and he looked up to find Minerva standing in front of him, wand held at the ready, phial of memories clenched in her fist. Shock and gratitude overwhelmed him, and the hall blurred into a sea of jumbled colours.

Perhaps he was not entirely alone after all.

* * *

**Chapter 6**

_The True Betrayer_

Severus did not attempt to hide his tears. He had imagined that, once he surrendered himself, he would find himself the target of the students _and _professors. He hadn't supposed any of them would have enough good will towards him left to shield him. He had hoped, of course, but thought himself a fool for allowing such sentiments to colour his judgment.

Yet she had shielded him, and that knowledge healed something long-since broken within him. Something that had snapped when Albus demanded that Severus be the one to kill him. A quick, painless death for Albus had meant a year of suffering without an ally for Severus, along with the pain of a broken heart and tattered soul.

Minerva's defence of him gave him hope that he mightn't spend the last hours of his life entirely alone.

"Enough!" Minerva's brogue always came to the fore when she was angry. "Sit down. To attack a man who has surrendered is the behaviour of death eaters and demons, and we are neither. _Sit down_. I shan't tell you again."

Severus flinched at her not-so-subtle slap. So she defended him out of honour rather than trust. He ought to have realised, but still, it hurt.

Amidst an outcry of grumbling and shouts, eventually, the students returned to their seats and Minerva stepped away from Severus.

She gasped at the sight of tears rolling down his face. "Ach! What is this all about?"

He stared at his lap. "Is it so difficult to believe that I would suffer in finding myself left without a single shred of hope the world over? That after baring the honest truth of my soul, I am still found wanting by all whom I value?" He shook his head and brushed idly at his robe. "Do not trouble yourself for my tears, Minerva. I damned myself long ago. That I suffer for it now is no one's fault but my own."

She stared, gobsmacked and bemused.

Filius' voice broke the silence. "Severus, is what you have told us true?"

Severus waved to the student tables. "Look around you, Filius. If I were truly Dark, then I am also a fool for removing every soul within the castle who might come to my aid."

Minerva shook herself as if coming out of a daze. "How do I know this is not an elaborate plot?"

Severus lifted his sleeve, revealing the blistering and redness already seeping down his arm. "He knows, Minerva. My time is limited, whether you choose to believe me or not. I only ask that you allow me to use what little is left of my strength to aid you."

Her lips twisted into a scowl. "I find it difficult to believe—and too convenient—that Albus would ask you to murder him, then ensure that you are the only one who is able to aid Harry."

"He knew that I was the only one of us who is desperate enough, and jaded enough, to do what must be done. And I am the only one, in the end, vow-sworn to do whatever he asked of me." Tears slid down his face. "Even that which breaks my soul and destroys my hope and future, all for the greater good."

Her lips pursed and her hands trembled. Perhaps his grief affected her more than she wished to admit.

"Your wand. Give it to me."

Severus gave her both the wand he carried in public and the spare hidden beside it, though he could not hide a shaky intake of breath nor his fear at doing so. "If… if you will kill me, Minerva, I ask only that you place that series of memories in Albus' pensieve for Harry after I am gone and, with the help of the other heads of house, enact the Shield of the Founders. I will not be here to give the boy his… mission, but he must know, and the school must be protected. I have done what I can, but it will not hold long against a siege, and we shall face one all too soon."

Minerva's resolve wavered. "Albus… that is an excellent idea. We shall see what Albus has to say about this. Then, and only then, will I consider your requests."

She expected him to balk. Instead, Severus bowed his head in deference to her orders. "I do not know if he will speak to you, but you are welcome to ask."

She hesitated. "And I will remove any spells on the canvas first."

"There are none but wards to protect him from tampering and damage, which are easy enough to restore once you have finished my interrogation. Do as you will."

His lack of resistance must have rattled her. "You will surrender Hogwarts to me then."

Severus' shoulders tensed. "That I cannot do. I would do so, and gladly, if I were able, but it is out of my hands. Hogwarts herself chooses the headmaster. However, you are welcome to ask her. I do not deserve the honour of leading when I have… the things I have done…." More tears slid down his face. "If she will surrender the headmastership to you, then take it and welcome."

Minerva sucked in a sharp breath, no doubt recalling Albus' own lessons about Hogwarts' sentience and succession. Lessons that meant the school would never allow one who had truly turned on her students and professors as Severus had supposedly done to take control.

Lessons that would have, if anyone had thought to recall them in the chaos surrounding Albus' death, proved Severus' innocence.

Minerva's expression shifted to horror. "Oh gods. Severus…."

He hesitantly touched her wrist, a gesture of support. "You were never meant to know. Not until I died or my cover was blown. Do not blame yourself."

She took in a shaky breath. "Right. I… Albus. We must talk to Albus."

Filius stood at her side. "I believe the heads should sit in on this conversation as well. Especially if there is to be a change in leadership."

Minerva gave a curt nod and led Severus away.

* * *

While Bill had gone to Gringotts to arrange for a secure meeting with the goblins in charge of the Lestrange vaults and Gringotts' laws, Harry and Ron sat with Hermione and talked about what they had learned.

"So Bill knew how to clear horcruxes all along," said a subdued Ron.

"And Dumbledore never mentioned it, yes," Harry half-growled. "Like the prophecy, the reason I needed to learn Occlumency, the possibility that Hogwarts might be sentient…. I wonder what else he failed to mention."

Hermione tugged Harry's hand. "He did what he had to do, Harry, but wait. What do you mean Hogwarts is sentient?"

Ron huffed. "Well, that's what Bill said, but he can't be right, can he?"

"I don't understand. Why can't he be right?"

"Because if the school is sentient enough to choose her headmaster, then she chose Snape." Harry snarled at the mere thought. "And that would imply he was innocent."

Hermione sucked in a sharp breath. "Merlin. But you saw him kill Dumbledore, so he can't be innocent—"

"Exactly," said Ron. "Just what we said."

Hermione paused and rubbed her chin. "On the other hand, there could easily be more to the story we don't understand. After all, this bit about the horcruxes proves that Dumbledore didn't tell us half of what he should have done. Perhaps Snape might be innocent after all."

"Hermione!" Harry gave her a scandalized look. "You're not saying you don't believe me?"

"Of course not. I'm saying what you saw might not have been murder. There might have been a reason for that night on the tower we don't understand. Snape _was _a spy, after all. And we all know they were hiding things that year. A lot of things. Today has made that all too clear."

Harry looked at her as if she'd gone mad. "Hermione, come off it. Don't you think that's a bit farfetched?"

She shrugged, though one shoulder moved less than the other. "I could be wrong, of course, but it might be wise to withhold judgment until we know all of the details."

"Snape killed him," Harry cried. "What else do we need to know?"

"Why he did it, to start."

"He did it because he's a slimy Slytherin traitor," Ron said.

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Like Malfoy, you mean?"

Harry huffed. "Malfoy… that's different, 'Mione."

"It might not be, Harry. I mean, think of it rationally. Snape had a position of trust, a place of honour within the Order, and a home. Why would he throw that away just for petty revenge on the one man who ever gave him a chance?"

She shook her head. "Besides that, it doesn't mesh with Snape's earlier behavior for him to murder Dumbledore out of the blue. It's out of character. And that bothers me. Honestly, it's been bothering me for months."

She sighed at Harry's incredulous expression. "I don't know, Harry. Maybe you're right. I just think there might be more to the story. That's all."

Harry remembered Bill saying the exact same thing and squirmed a bit. _Had _he missed something that night? He tried to recall Snape's expression as he killed Dumbledore, but his memory wasn't clear. Snape had rarely given anything away in his face anyway.

And yet, Harry could recall a time or two when he had caught Snape staring out over the grounds that year. In those moments, he had looked haunted. Despairing.

Why would he be so miserable if he knew his dark plan for ultimate power was within his reach?

And then, Bill had said Dumbledore's curse was fatal. The old man hadn't shared that with Harry, either. What did it all mean?

Harry shoved his worries away with a huff. "Hermione, I think you're chasing shadows. He's just a bastard, plain and simple."

"Perhaps," she said with a pensive expression, "but one can be a bastard without being evil."

"Snape can't," Ron argued, and Harry could only agree.

Even if a tiny seed of doubt had taken root within the back of his mind.

He wouldn't acknowledge it. Couldn't afford to. They had no time to worry about it.

"Where do you suppose that crown might be?"

Hermione gave him a wry look, then began to postulate on all the potential hiding spots for a famous artefact and horcrux.

* * *

Albus finally woke up—for those other than Severus, at least—when Minerva led Severus in at wandpoint. "Severus… I see you have told them."

Severus bowed his head. "There was little choice. I have been discovered, Albus. My time runs short, and he is, most likely, already planning a counterstrike. I have warded him and his followers out as best as I can, but it is only a stopgap. I fear we must enact the Shield of the Founders immediately if we are to survive beyond the night."

Minerva's jaw dropped. "A-Albus… it's true? He… he is not a traitor?"

Albus gave Severus a sorrowful look. "Severus has never betrayed me. Never. He has been loyal to the end. It is I who have harmed him. Greatly so. My boy, I am so very sorry."

Severus waved him off. "We both knew the price of my last order would be my death, whether at Riddle's hand or the Light's. We both knew it would only be a matter of time. I have accepted it, if I admit… I am afraid. Not of death as much as leaving my missions unfinished. Of failing him." His voice broke. "And of… of what it will cost him if I succeed."

Minerva released Severus and sank into a chair. "Albus… I… I cannot believe this. If what he says is true… then you _ordered _him to do this. To kill his mentor and become the Light's scapegoat. You _ordered him _to break his own heart, soul, and life, and you continue to do so."

A tear leaked down Albus' face. "I am afraid that is what it came down to, yes. I was far crueller to Severus than he has ever been to me."

Minerva buried her head in her hands to hide her tears. Severus laid a tentative, shaking hand on her shoulder, certain he would be rebuffed, but Minerva tugged him down, pulling him into her arms.

"Oh, Severus. I am so very sorry."

He held her as she wept and wondered that his own eyes did not. Perhaps he was numb. He had never dreamed he would be held in her arms like a beloved son. He had never dreamed he would be forgiven at all.

His shields cracked, and in the arms of the woman he had considered a second mother for the past fifteen years, he wept.

* * *

**Chapter 7**

_Honour and Grace_

Severus let the heads discuss the situation for a moment while he slipped into his quarters for much-needed potions. He hadn't reminded the shell-shocked professors of his dire condition, but nevertheless, if he intended to survive long enough to erect a final shield over Hogwarts, then he needed to boost his strength.

Pepper-Up, an Anti-Dark Magic Draught, and several powerful healing potions would keep him alive long enough to finish this last task. He returned to find them still in deep discussion and used the opportunity to slip the memories Minerva had set aside earlier into Albus' empty pensieve. A few phials of Albus' memories proving Severus' innocence sat near the edge, but they had both known they would not be used while Severus still lived.

At least his name might not remain blackened forever now. He could hope for it, at any rate.

It didn't matter much. Whether he was ever cleared of his crimes or not, he would never live to see it.

No matter. Knowing he had given his all for the Light, for Lily, for her son, was enough for him.

Harry. Gods, that hurt. Severus had only ever wanted to protect that boy, and at every turn, he had caused him pain. And, in the end, he would be the one to deliver the killing blow, too.

Merlin, how he wished there was another way.

With a heavy sigh, he closed the cabinet and turned back to the other heads.

"If you are ready, we should descend to the wardstone chamber and erect the Shield of the Founders. I fear Riddle will not wait long to begin a siege, and I must aid you while I have the strength."

Tears slid down Minerva's face. "Oh, Severus. This… should not be."

"He would have killed me regardless, Minerva. He wants control of Albus' wand. At least this way I am able to do some good before my time runs out."

She took his hands. "Don't give up hope, Severus. There may yet be a way."

Severus gave her a sad smile. Gryffindor to the end. She would carry on hoping until he breathed his last. The thought gave him surcease. He would not leave this world entirely unmourned.

He squeezed her hands and released her. "Perhaps. For now, we should focus on protecting the students."

She dabbed at her eyes. "Have you always been so selfless, and none of us noticed?"

Severus snorted. "Merlin, Minerva. Don't canonize me yet. I'm still an irascible bastard."

The light of humor returned to her eyes. "Indeed?"

He chuckled and led the heads to the secret door only revealed to the head of the school except in times of dire need. "Come."

With a deep breath, Filius gazed down the stairs. "This is the way to the wardstone, Severus?"

"Yes."

Pomona smiled tentatively. "It's said to be a lovely place."

Horace put on his monocle and nodded. "I am looking forward to the opportunity to see it. So few ever do."

"Words fail to describe it," Severus said in a reverent tone.

Minerva winced. "And there is more proof that you are worthy. The wardstone does not allow anyone of ill intent to approach."

"No, but we mustn't dally. There is little time."

Minerva took a deep breath and followed Severus down into the chamber, Filius, Horace, and Pomona on their heels.

"I do hope this works," Horace said. "Do you know the incantations, Severus?"

"It is passed down from Hogwarts to her head upon their acceptance of the position."

Minerva flinched. "So if we had killed you…?"

"The knowledge would have passed to whomever Hogwarts chose to succeed me."

"And if I _had _allowed that travesty, it may well have passed me over."

Severus inclined his head. "Perhaps. You are the deputy, but Hogwarts does seem to be passing fond of me. I confess I have no idea why."

Hogwarts gave him a sense of being rebuked. Severus couldn't help but laugh at her irritation with him.

Pomona looked at him askance. "Severus?"

"I am being chided like a recalcitrant child by the castle," Severus said with a little snicker. "I do not think she appreciated my self-deprecation just now."

Minerva chuckled. "Wise lady. Are we… oh."

She trailed off as Severus opened the door to the wardstone chamber and stepped inside. He couldn't blame her. Even having seen it before, its beauty still took his breath away.

"Oh my," Filius breathed.

"Lovely didn't begin to cover it," Pomona whispered.

"No, indeed," said an awestruck Horace.

Severus moved into the room and stood directly in front of the wardstone. "Minerva, please stand on the depiction of fire on the floor. Your house is most attuned to that element. Filius…."

He had already taken his place upon the air emblem. Severus nodded.

"Pomona, please stand upon the earth symbol, and Horace, that leaves water for you."

The heads took position around the stone.

"Well done. Now, for this ritual, I am only the chanter and the conduit. The power of the wards comes mostly from you. Please, hold your hands and wands out, palms facing me, and focus on pouring the power of your respective elements into me. I shall direct it to the stone and guide it to form the shield."

Horace paused. "Severus, are you well enough to…?"

"There is little point in conserving my strength, Horace. There is no coming back from this. If I go while placing the wards, then at least I shall know I gave my all."

Minerva blinked another fall of tears down her face. "I shan't give up."

"Good. Hold onto that love and determination. It will help you call upon the powers of fire. Filius, you are rationality and invention. Horace, adaptability and insight. Pomona, steadfastness and the mother aspect. I am rebirth and the father aspect."

He met their eyes in turn. "Do not weep for me. I am content. Are we ready?"

Minerva wiped her eyes and nodded. "I will give you everything I have, Severus."

"You always have, Minerva." He swallowed against a wave of emotion. He needed to focus, and yet, instinct told him their desire to protect him and his sacrifice could only strengthen the power of their casting.

Albus had always said that there was no greater power than love.

Shame it would not be enough save its champions, in the end.

He focused on the ritual he needed to perform. As soon as his thoughts centred, the wardstone, again, reached out to examine his intent. By the surprised jolt his companions gave, they had felt it, too.

"Do not be afraid, and do not hide. It is only the wardstone assessing our intentions."

The others nodded, and after a moment, Severus again felt that wave of warm acceptance. Thank Merlin.

He waited for each of the heads to nod in turn, then braced himself for the ritual ahead.

"Begin."

The ritual magic, while it coursed through him, had made Severus feel invincible. For an instant, he was immortal, unbreakable. Yet, he could not remain so and protect the school, and so, he released the power into the night, letting it use him not as an anchor, but a conduit. It passed through him, ephemeral but lovely while it lasted.

Then, the ritual ended, and Severus knew pain like he had never felt before. It tore through his arm to his chest and into his heart. It pulsed through his veins, liquid fire burning him from the inside out. He failed to hold back a cry, then everything went black.

"Severus!"

He sank into the ether knowing that, in the end, he had given his all.

* * *

Severus awoke to the astringent smells and crisp sheets of the infirmary. He hadn't thought he would awaken at all, but it seemed he still had some little wait left before his time ran out.

Poppy clucked over him. He didn't need to open his eyes to imagine the way her lips would be pursed in irritation and her eyes soft with concern. A good thing, too, as he could not move so much as an eyelash.

"Minerva, it's not good, I'm afraid. Severus had the right of it. His mark is poisoning him slowly. There… I am sorry, but there is nothing I can do."

Minerva sniffled and took a shaky breath. "He sacrificed himself for us, Poppy. And all this time, we thought…."

"I imagine our hatred of him bought him time. You-Know-Who would have only killed him sooner had we acted with anything less than utter fury, and I expect that Severus went into this situation fully aware of that fact."

"Perhaps you are right, but to be so alone… gods. Poppy, I can hardly bear the thought of what he must have endured." A warm hand squeezed his own. "Well, you shan't be alone any longer, Severus, though it does little good now."

On the contrary, her support filled him with a sense of peace. He had been forgiven, at least by this one person.

"How long, Poppy?"

"I… two weeks, at most. That is the best I can do, and it might be kinder… not to drag it out."

"_Poppy_!"

Poppy paused, no doubt gathering her courage to speak the blunt truth of Severus' terrible fate. "If I could say it will be a peaceful death, but it will be anything but, Minerva. For the moment, the pain draughts are keeping him in relative comfort, but they will stop working eventually. And Merlin help him when they do." Her voice broke. "Merlin help us all."

A shudder passed through Minerva's fingers. "Dear gods."

"I am sorry." Poppy sounded like she meant it. "I wish I could do more."

Minerva sniffled again. "No. I think you've done miracles to give us even this much time." Her breath hitched, and a stricken sob escaped her. "Oh, Severus. I am so very sorry!"

She buried her head upon his shoulder and wept, and Severus lamented that he could offer her no comfort in his final hours.

_'Forgive me, Minerva. I am sorry, too.'_

* * *

**CHAPTER 8**

_Out of the Cupboard_

After a visit with Luna, Harry went back to see how Hermione was doing. He hadn't been there long when the door opened, admitting Bill and Fleur.

"Bonjour," Fleur said with a smile and went to Hermione's bedside. "Ah, let us see 'ow you are 'ealing, oui?"

Hermione smiled wanly and tolerated her poking and prodding.

Bill nudged Harry and took him aside. "Our meeting is scheduled for tomorrow morning. I've some polyjuice on hand so you won't be in danger. The goblins know you will be disguised and that we need their help with something dangerous in one of their vaults. They do not yet know why or which vault. They have already agreed to a vow of secrecy as well."

"Thanks, Bill. We had best do the _Fidelius_ tonight then."

Bill nodded. "Soon as we're done here. Fleur will be busy with dinner and our other patients, so it's the best time."

"Sounds good."

Bill clapped him on the shoulder and went to leave, but Hermione called him back.

"Bill, wait a moment. I meant to ask you, the boys told me you said Hogwarts is sentient. Will you tell me what you know?"

Bill shot Ron and Harry a half-reproachful, half-amused look, and Harry had the feeling he knew exactly how that subject had come up. He refused to acknowledge the twist of guilt in his gut.

Bill conjured a chair and sat in it backwards, draping his arms along the top. Fleur clucked at him and went on healing Hermione. Bill just grinned at his wife.

Harry found himself wishing he would, one day, find a relationship like that. He wondered why it hadn't quite… meshed with Ginny, then jumped as Bill began to speak.

"Well, it's like this. We cursebreakers have been trying to figure out the curse Riddle left on the DADA position for years. Best we can figure is that he tied it into his life-force, so as long as he lives, so will the curse."

Harry kept it to himself that Riddle must have thought it would be permanent, then. Judging by the expressions of his confidants, they had come to the same conclusion.

"While we were working on it," Bill went on, "we got to experience the core of Hogwarts' magic and wards. And it nearly shocked us all out of our skins when she talked to us. Well, she didn't use words, more like sensations and mental images, but we all understood nonetheless. She asked us what we were doing and why. She let us alone when she realized we were there to help, but not before leaving us all with a million questions.

"As I was already in the Order, I was closer to Albus than the others, so I asked him about it. He invited me for tea and lemon drops, of course."

Harry snorted. Of course he did.

Bill grinned at him. "And after plying me with far more sweet things than were good for either of us, he told me a bit about Hogwarts' sentience. He mentioned how it had surprised him, too, when Hogwarts tested him and chose him as her next headmaster. He had thought the position would go to someone else, I imagine due to his past indiscretions."

Ron gaped. "Dumbledore said this?"

"He did. He also said that Hogwarts judges people at the core of their being. She looks past all disguises, all personality flaws, and even a person's past to choose someone who puts the needs of the students above their own to lead her. Someone who would sooner die themselves…." Here, he held Harry's shocked gaze. "Or sacrifice everything of what they are before seeing the school and her students come to harm."

Harry jerked up. "But that _can't_ be true! Snape killed Dumbledore! And he bloody well hurt me! I was a student, wasn't I? Don't I count?"

Bill nodded, expression grave. "And was Snape not a spy for the Order at the time? What do you imagined would have happened if You-Know-Who had gotten wind of Snape being decent to you?"

Harry swallowed hard and looked away. He knew what happened to traitors in Riddle's ranks. He had seen it—and lived it—firsthand.

"Well, it still was being cruel to Harry to protect his own hide," Ron protested. "So it was still putting his own life above Harry's."

"No," said Hermione. "It wasn't. Snape saved us all any number of times by spying and gathering intelligence for us. He was protecting Harry by being cold to him, odd as it sounds."

Bill nodded. "That's what I thought, too."

"Maybe," said Harry in a shaky voice—gods, was it true? "You might be right about that. But how does murdering Dumbledore equal protecting the students more than his own interests?"

Bill shook his head. "I don't have the answers there, but rest assured, they exist, or Hogwarts wouldn't have chosen him. There's no fooling magic that searches your very soul."

Harry leapt to his feet and paced. "But there must be! He killed him! He's a cruel, evil, selfish bastard, and…."

Harry huffed and sank into his chair again, feeling torn in a million directions. Snape _was_ evil, wasn't he?

Fleur sighed and looked up from her work. "I zink you are wrong about ze 'eadmaster, too, 'Arry. You know I am a Veela, oui?"

Harry nodded shortly. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Much. You see, Veela allure draws in every kind of straight man nearby. Only men who are not interested in women will be able to resist until a Veela 'as a bonded mate or zey do."

Ron's and Hermione's eyes slid to Harry, who choked and flushed to his hairline.

"Er… you're sure it's only gay men who don't…?"

She gave him an understanding smile. "I zink it is more zan danger which drove you away from my seester-in-law, oui?"

Harry gulped. "Um… I…."

Ron coughed. "Oh. Well, that explains a lot, I suppose. I always wondered why you never made a fool of yourself around Fleur."

Harry hissed, "I had more important things on my mind!"

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Like the Half-Blood Prince, perhaps?"

Harry whirled on her. "Don't. Don't use that against me. You have no idea how much…."

She took his hand, her eyes apologetic. "How much it hurt?"

Harry blinked hard and looked away. "Doesn't mean I fancied him."

"Harry. You _slept_ with your potions book. It was blatantly obvious."

Harry dropped his head in shame. "Look, can we get back to the point, please? We were talking about Snape, not me."

"Well, so was I."

"Hermione. Please."

At the genuine pain in his voice, Hermione relented with a squeeze of his hand. "Fair enough. Why did you bring up the allure, Fleur?"

The Veela gave Harry a sad smile. "I am sorry, 'Arry. I would not 'ave said, but I zot you 'ad already told your friends. I zot zees was why you really broke eet off with Ginny."

Harry waved her on. "Just… tell me what this has to do with Snape. Please."

She nodded. "Eet was because ze allure attracts all kinds of straight men, 'Arry. Even dangerous men. Evil men. We must be able to tell which men will 'arm us because, under ze allure, zey all act ze same. We 'ave a natural pull for men who would be good for us and us good for them, like Bill and me, but zere ees also ze ability to tell which men are truly evil. We feel it, like cold in our chests when we are near. I felt zees for Professor Moody, but did not yet understand what eet meant. I 'ave never felt such coldness for Professor Snape."

Harry paused. "Wait a minute. None of the professors ever reacted to you either."

"It doesn't draw men who are married, bonded, uninterested in women, or over twenty years a Veela's senior," said Bill.

"But Snape isn't bonded or over twenty years her senior," said Ron.

Bill raised an eyebrow.

"Oh." Ron blushed. "He's gay then?"

"Might also be asexual, or his ability with Occlumency might be able to counteract the allure. I don't know. Snape isn't exactly forthcoming about his personal life. Either way, the important thing here is that he's not evil. If he was, Fleur and Hogwarts would have known."

Harry shook his head wildly. "No. It… he must have hidden it. You said Occlumency might block the allure. It might block Fleur's built-in evil detector, too."

Hermione frowned. "Couldn't Crouch Occlude, though?"

Ron grumped. "What does Crouch have to do with it? He never reacted to Fleur either."

Bill nodded. "That one I'm pretty sure was asexual, or at least far too fanatical about Riddle to care about women. And I think he's a few years older than Snape anyway, but the issue with Crouch isn't his response to the allure or lack thereof. Hermione brought him up to prove that Occlumency doesn't fool Fleur's ability to sense evil. Crouch would have had to be able to Occlude exceptionally well to fool Snape, yet Fleur sensed he wasn't to be trusted. So it follows that if Snape was evil, she would sense it, Occlumency or no, and Hogwarts definitely would."

"Maybe Snape and Crouch were in on it together," said Ron, but he sounded uncertain.

"That doesn't explain the lack of evil around Snape, and even if it did, why would Snape have alerted Dumbledore that Moody had run off with Harry after the tournament if he had planned for Crouch to abduct him all along? Why wouldn't he have gone straight to Riddle or let Crouch hurt Harry?"

Harry drew his knees to his chest, feeling sick. The idea that Snape wasn't a traitor was so unbelievable after everything the man had done, and yet, Harry couldn't deny that Bill, Fleur, and Hermione had given compelling evidence. It hurt to think of it.

If Snape wasn't evil, then what did that say about Dumbledore? About Harry himself and everything he knew to be true?

It was all too terrible to contemplate.

"I… I don't think I want to talk about this anymore."

Fleur gave her husband a knowing look. Bill stood and patted Harry's shoulder.

"All right. I reckon this is a lot to take in. Just try to calm down for now." By the look in his eyes, Harry understood that he would need to be at least somewhat focused for the Fidelius to take properly.

"Y-yeah. I'll do that."

Bill squeezed Harry's shoulder and left with his wife, leaving Harry with far too much to consider.

* * *

The next morning, a still troubled Harry left for Gringotts under the guise of Arthur Weasley. Ron had stayed behind as they had feared to draw too much attention. Bill guided him into the bank, nodded to the tellers, and went straight into a room Harry hadn't noticed before. The sign above the door read: "Claims and Disputes."

A tired-looking goblin sat behind a desk and scratched facts and figures onto a long piece of parchment. He gave them a bored look when they entered and pulled a red notebook towards him.

"Name?"

"Bill Weasley and a protected client here, by appointment, to see Madam Tilvaxe and Master Longhook. They are aware of my friend's need for secrecy and have already approved the use of polyjuice potion for his protection."

The goblin looked askance at them. "I see…." He scanned a long, knobbled finger along a list of names in his notebook. "Ah, yes. There is a note here that your… friend is a high-security client. Very well." He snapped his fingers, and a door appeared on his left, in the wall nearest the way they had just come. "Step through there. Tilvaxe is awaiting your arrival."

They thanked the goblin and obeyed, Harry a bit warily. Hadn't that wall led to the main lobby?

Instead of a large, busy hall, the door opened to reveal a stone tunnel with torches along one side and high windows along the other. A goblin in a black suit dress with a sensible navy blouse and matching pumps waited for them at the door. Her facial features were a bit softer than her male colleagues, but she had no more hair than they did.

"Welcome, gentlemen. I am Madam Tilvaxe, the overseer of the Rosier-Fawley family lines of heritage vaults. If you will follow me, I will escort you to a secure location for the remainder of our interview."

"Thank you, ma'am," said Harry, jumping at the sound of Arthur's soft-spoken tenor coming through his own lips.

She gave him a curt nod and led them down the corridor, down a second that branched off toward the left, then into a small, stone room with no windows. Harry hurried inside after Bill and jumped again at the snap of the door shutting.

"Relax, sir," said a goblin at a table across from him. He looked younger than most Harry had met, but sharp as a tack. "We don't bite. Not humans, anyway."

Bill snorted. "Not today at least, hmm?"

The goblin gave them a toothy grin that only made Harry more nervous. "Not while you are paying for my fine steaks and expensive clothing, no."

Bill chuckled and pulled out a seat for Harry. "Good to know."

Harry sat, eyeing the goblins warily.

Tilvaxe settled beside her companion and motioned for Bill to sit beside Harry.

"Now, Mister Weasley, you did inform your companion that he will need to remove his disguise before we continue?"

"Yes, but please allow me to ward the room first. What we are about to discuss here is a matter of life and death." He fixed the male goblin with a grim look. "I'm afraid it would result in the loss of thousands of clients who pay for your treats rather than four."

The goblin raised an eyebrow. "In that case, proceed."

Bill nodded and obeyed. Harry didn't feel remotely at ease until he had finished and sat beside him again.

"Here, Harry. We're safe now. The antidote is here."

Bill handed him a foul-looking potion, but Harry knocked it back without much of a fuss.

"Urgh." He dealt with the bubbling and shifting of Polyjuice until he felt himself again. He took his glasses from his vest pocket—which sagged on him now—and settled into his seat.

"Harry Potter," said Tilvaxe. "I see now why you insisted on such secrecy, Bill."

"Yes, ma'am."

The male goblin nodded. "I am Longhook, master of laws and codes of ethics at Gringotts. We have both already taken vows of secrecy concerning the contents of our meeting today. Are you ready to proceed?"

Harry deferred to Bill, who nodded.

"Yes, sir. I'm here about an item in the Lestrange vault. It's stolen, first off. It rightfully belonged to Hepzibah Smith, but Tom Riddle stole it from her along with the locket of Slytherin, then killed her to make horcruxes, or so we think. Well, the cup of Hufflepuff is definitely a horcrux, but we don't know for sure if he used Smith for the ritual or his father and step-mother, or their parents. He murdered them all around the same time, you see, and we didn't find confirmation as to who… well, you know."

The goblins eyes flashed with fury. Harry thought they might attack, but then Longhook hissed, "thieves," in a low rasp, and Harry knew they weren't enraged at him.

Tilvaxe said, "Do you have proof of this, Mister Potter?"

"I have a memory of someone else's memory proving the theft. As to the nature of the cup, no. It's just deduction."

"Thankfully, that is easy enough to prove." Longhook put on a slim pair of silver glasses. "Are you familiar with Legilimency, Mister Potter?"

"Too much so," he said with a grimace.

"I am quite skilled in the discipline and shall do my best not to cause undue harm. It should not hurt you, Mister Potter, but if it does cause you pain, we do have headache remedies available."

Harry gave Bill a look. If a goblin could muck around in his head without hurting him, surely the foremost mind master in Europe behind only Dumbledore and Riddle himself could as well.

"I'll remind you, Harry," said Bill, "that you have a bit of a wild card to deal with concerning Legilimency." As if to prove his point, Bill tapped Harry's scar.

"Ow!" Harry winced and rubbed his forehead, feeling as though Bill had hit him with a sledgehammer rather than a fingertip.

"I think I will fetch that headache remedy while Master Longhook is reading the evidence," said Tilvaxe, looking askance at Harry's scar. "Perhaps more than one."

Bill raised an eyebrow, and Harry slumped, miserable. If just tapping his scar hurt that much, maybe Snape hadn't meant to hurt Harry. Maybe he just couldn't help that it did.

"He still might have given me a potion after," Harry grumbled. "Potions Master and all."

"Also a spy. Until you learned to Occlude, or at least began to take it seriously, I doubt there was much he could do. And there is a mediwitch available on school property. I imagine he hoped you would go to her since his hands were tied."

Harry flushed. Damn. Bill had an answer for every argument Harry could think of, except one, and he had evidence one existed for that one even if he didn't know the details. Maybe he was right. Merlin knew something was amiss about the situation.

Maybe he'd best take Hermione's advice to heart, or at least consider the possibility—

"I do hate to interrupt a conversation we obviously have no privy to," said Longhook in a tone that suggested just the opposite, "but Madam Tilvaxe and I do have a schedule to keep. If we could focus on the matter at hand, please?"

Harry's ears burned along with his face. "Oh. Right. Sorry about that."

"Never mind it. Are you ready to proceed?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Now, if you will bring the memory of the theft to the front of your mind, Mister Potter, I will examine your evidence and act accordingly. If it is as you say, we shall task Mister Weasley with neutralizing the threat and all parties involved with the theft and storage of forbidden dark artifacts will be blacklisted and banned from all branches of Gringotts the world over. As well, the cup will be returned to its proper owner, and you and Mister Weasley will receive compensation for aiding us in identifying thieves and criminals in our midst."

Harry flushed. "Er, that's not necessary. The compensation, I mean. I had help in working this all out besides."

"Then we shall compensate all of your helpers," said Tilvaxe in a stern voice.

Harry opened his mouth to protest, but at Bill's firm shake of the head, he subsided.

"Yes, ma'am," Harry said, face hot, and brought the memory of that day in Dumbledore's pensieve to mind.


	2. Part 2

**DISCRETION AND VALOR**

_PART 2_

* * *

**Chapter 9**

_Tried and True_

Severus woke to the sound of muffled voices and muted sniffles. He tried to open his eyes, but his eyelids remained frozen. He tried turning towards the voices, struggled to reach out, to call to them—hell, to make a sound at all—but all avenues of communication had closed to him.

Paralysis. The second stage of the venom had set in, then.

Two weeks had been too generous an allowance. He would succumb to the final stage of the venom and die—if he did not go mad from the pain first—in perhaps three days. If he was lucky. Already, the pain potions had ceased to be completely effective.

Gods help him, he wished he might have died in the ritual. The idea of so much suffering, hopeless, ceaseless agony without relief until madness claimed him, then death… Merlin, no.

He wished someone yet remained to grant him a merciful death, but there was no one.

_'Gods grant me courage.'_

Merlin knew he would need it.

"I just can't abide this," Minerva's tormented voice broke through the fog of Severus' exhaustion and terror. "After all he gave for us, all he endured _from _us, we are supposed to just sit here and watch him die slowly? In agony? And we cannot even offer him the comfort of our presence?"

Poppy sighed. "I _am _sorry, Minerva. I have tried to find a charm, a potion, anything to save him… but there is nothing. I hate it, too."

Minerva's heels clacked on the floors. Severus could imagine her pacing, the pink rimming her eyes as she struggled to come to terms with something no Gryffindor could ever accept: the inevitability of fate.

Well, perhaps one Gryffindor might bring himself to accept his fate, but then, Severus had always wondered if Harry wasn't half Slytherin despite his reckless courage and unshakeable loyalty. He was certainly resourceful enough, and too jaded to be entirely lionish.

Minerva, however, had no snake-like qualities to help her embrace impending death. It comforted him that she would fight so hard for him, even if he had accepted it long ago. At least he wouldn't face this horror alone.

"There must be _something_. Horace, you don't have any potions to…?"

"I'm afraid not." He sounded honestly sorry, too. "I have tried, but the truth of the matter is that the only person capable of saving Severus… is Severus himself. No one else has his knack for the art, I'm afraid."

Severus wanted to snort at the irony that Horace would only acknowledge that now, when Severus' brilliance was fast fading from the world. Now that he was no longer a threat to the old man's livelihood, he supposed it didn't gall as much.

"Humph," Poppy said. "Certainly took you long enough to notice."

Horace had enough grace—or self-preservation—not to respond.

"I simply cannot bear this," Minerva said again after a moment. "It is unconscionable to lose him so soon when we _just _found him. And when we have all failed him so—" Her voice broke. "Poppy, you're sure there's no hope?"

"If I could grant you hope, I would, but I am not so cruel. If it were a potions-based poison, or even an animal bite, I would call in a team from St. Mungo's and have them take over. But the fact is that no one can save him. The mark is killing him, Minerva, and the only person with the ability to manipulate it is the one pumping his veins full of poison."

"The mark…."

"Yes. So there really is nothing to be done. There are no charms or antidotes in existence for the mark, and no one can study it to make them. There is nothing to be done, Minerva. I'm sorry."

Minerva's voice held a slight edge when she spoke again. "Well, I, for one, refuse to give up. Even if it is a fool's hope." She muttered something too low to hear and left the infirmary.

Poppy sighed and moved to Severus' bedside. A gentle hand brushed his hair from his face, and he lamented that he had only felt such care when he was too far gone to respond. When he would soon be too far gone to feel it at all.

"Oh, Severus. I am so sorry."

_'Thank you. Thank you for your love.'_

If this was the last thing he remembered, their love and grief for his pain, perhaps dying wouldn't be so terrible after all.

* * *

As Bill had said they would, the goblins had indeed blacklisted the Lestranges and Riddle, let Bill remove the horcrux, then returned the cup to the Smith family. Their idea of a "small" reward, however, had turned out to be a monetary gift of a thousand galleons to Bill, Dumbledore's heirs, and the house elf fund for the care of abandoned elves—for Hokey's aid, though she had died shortly after Dumbledore visited last year—and five thousand apiece to Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

Apparently, goblins _really _hated thieves. Good thing they hadn't gone through with Harry's mad plan. That would have been catastrophic.

Harry might have complained about the money but for the fact that he knew it would give Ron and Hermione something to help start their lives together. For their sake, he kept his discomfort to himself.

Harry had other things on his mind anyway. Much as Fleur's revelations about his own probable sexuality had blindsided him, he kept going back to Snape instead. He just couldn't tear his mind from the possibility that maybe the man wasn't evil at all. He spent much of the day alone, struggling and failing to make sense of his convoluted thoughts. By the time Potterwatch aired, he was thoroughly ready for something to take his mind off of the chaos inside.

But, as always, his luck did not work that way.

After a few moments to report the latest skirmishes and casualties, George came on the air, sounding a bit off-balance.

"And now, folks, we have a special message from Ruby Rambunctious herself."

"Gods, that sounds like a stripper name," said Ron with a snort.

"Hush," Hermione urged.

Harry jolted as McGonagall's voice filled the air. "_What _did you just call me?"

"A cat name, not a stripper," Harry said with a snort.

Ron shrugged unapologetically. Hermione gave them both her patented glare of death, and Harry reckoned he'd best shut up now.

McGonagall had just finished chiding the twins for such a ridiculous name. "Merlin. Call me Ruby if you must, but do not add that ridiculous surname."

George chuckled. "Will do, Madam Ruby. Now, in the interest of time, which we're short of, what did you need to tell us, ma'am?"

Her voice wavered with emotion. "Gods, forgive me."

Hermione gasped. "Professor…?"

Harry sat rigid. McGonagall wasn't inclined to showing emotion of any sort. To hear her like this… something dreadful must have happened.

"I… I am ashamed to admit that I have been a fool these past eleven months. I heard that Professor Snape, whom I had loved as a son until this time last year, had murdered Albus and taken his place as headmaster under You-Know-Who's orders, and like a fool, I _believed_ it."

Harry dropped his gaze to his lap, blinking back tears. She didn't believe him?

"While it is true that Severus killed Albus, what we all thought was murder… was truly an act of mercy."

"_What_?" Ron's shout reverberated off the walls. Harry was too distraught to protest, vocally at least.

Luna shook her head at Ron. "You'll draw the nargles like that. She's just telling the world a truth it has ignored far too long."

Ron gave her a heartsick look. "Luna, not you too."

"Quiet," Ollivander said, and the effort it cost him to ask made the usually vocal Ron settle down again. "Severus' wand does not lend itself to true evil. The girl is correct."

Harry flinched and clenched his fists in his lap. Everyone around him kept insisting that Snape was innocent.

Maybe it was time to move beyond the shackles of the past and listen.

Fred had just finished voicing his own protests. McGonagall took them in stride.

"I know, ah… what are you calling yourself then?"

"I'm Rapier," said Fred. "My partner in crime goes by Rapscallion, and our tag-along here prefers River."

"Oi," Lee protested.

McGonagall chuckled slightly. "Thank you. As I was saying, yes, Rapier, that is what I thought as well, but we have found out since this morning that we were so very wrong."

She took a deep breath. "This morning, we all reported to breakfast as usual, but many people were missing."

Harry tensed. _'Oh gods, please let them be okay.'_

"Among those were most of the Slytherin upper years, half of the Ravenclaw upper years, and a good portion of both Gryffindor and Hufflepuff. Most of the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff sixth and seventh years are already in hiding, so we assumed those few missing from those tables had joined their peers, but the massive portion of students gone from the other two houses, naturally, alarmed us. As well, one professor, two scourges upon the name of professor, and the headmaster were absent.

"We have since learned that, at the time, the Carrows were dead and the headmaster was resting. Unfortunately, the other absences are also accounted for.

"You see, it was only after taking a headcount that we realized the majority of missing students were aligned with the dark. We placed the castle under alert without informing the headmaster, as we all assumed he would be with the missing dark students. We believed they had all withdrawn in preparation for a siege of some sort, and so we sought to alter the wards, but we could not reach the path to the ward room. Even with the emergency overrides, Hogwarts would not let us through. At the time, we were flummoxed, but we have since learned that Hogwarts was protecting the headmaster, who was asleep and injured after a rather large expenditure of magic, and who would not have been able to protect himself from our wrath. Unjust wrath, at that.

"At any rate, after that, we had no choice but to reassure the remaining students that we were doing everything possible to protect them and try to carry on. Classes were cancelled, but we called them to lunch and dinner just the same.

"At dinner, however…." Her voice broke. "Everything changed. Severus came to the great hall. We all… we glared at him. We had hoped he would stay gone. Gods forgive me."

"Ma'am," Lee murmured, distraught. "Merlin. What happened, ma'am? I've never seen you cry."

"I've been doing rather a lot of it as of late." She sniffled and carried on. "Forgive me. As I was saying, Severus came to dinner, but he did not take his seat. Instead, he stood at the front of the teachers' dais and called the heads of house to him. We were… I was rather hateful, I am ashamed to say, but he accepted it with grace. He was a different man then, and now I know that tonight is the first time I've ever seen the true Severus Snape at all."

She sniffled again and cleared her throat. "Severus addressed the hall then, and what he said shocked the life from us all. I… we were wrong. So very wrong about him.

"He… until that morning, or late the night before, however you wish to look at it, he had been acting as a spy for the light, but under deep cover. And last night, he was discovered."

"Mon dieu," Fleur breathed.

"He had been listening to Phineas Black's portrait for months, hoping to catch a hint as to Harry Potter's whereabouts, not to harm him, as we all believed he would, but to bring him… a tool to complete his mission. He told us that Phineas heard the name of their hiding spot one night, and Severus went straight there, using his stealth skills to track Harry. Once he found them, he placed the tool nearby and used his Patronus, a doe, to lure Harry to it."

"The sword," Harry gasped. "He brought us the sword!"

Hermione put her hand to her mouth and nodded tearfully.

Griphook eyed him, but Harry wasn't stupid enough to mention what sword he had in his possession. Bill had explained about goblins in more detail while they were staying there, and Harry didn't want an enraged goblin jumping him because he thought the Sword of Gryffindor should still belong to the goblin who crafted it rather than the wizard who paid for it.

Thank Merlin they hadn't been stupid enough to try to wheedle the goblin into robbing his own bank. Harry had a fair idea now what he would have demanded in return. And what would have happened when he got it, too.

"It seems," McGonagall continued, "that Severus had been using fragments of memories in front of his mental shields to convince You-Know-Who of his loyalty, but last night, he was distracted, and did not manage to hide a fragment of his memory of hearing of Harry's whereabouts in time. He was then issued an ultimatum to bring Harry Potter to You-Know-Who within two weeks, or die."

Harry gasped, guilt and terror coursing through him. He had half come to believe in the headmaster's innocence himself, but if they were wrong….

George said in a shaken tone, "Ma'am, if this is true, don't you think it's a mistake to mention it on air? Someone from the dark might hear and report back."

She gave a quiet sob. "You are correct, but as it happens, You-Know-Who already knows of his true loyalties."

"No," Hermione whispered.

"You see, from the moment he received that ultimatum, Severus knew he could no longer act as a spy and threw off his masks. He spent the remainder of the night altering the wards to force out every person loyal to You-Know-Who. Then, at dinner, he explained this and told us the truth of Albus' death, which his portrait has since confirmed."

She took a shaky breath. "Severus never betrayed us. If anything, Albus betrayed him. Albus used Severus' vows—he had sworn when he became a spy to both serve Albus and protect Harry Potter at all costs—"

Harry gasped and went rigid.

"—And Albus used those vows to force Severus to kill him. Severus begged him not to, but Albus would not listen to his pleas."

"Merlin and Morgana, _why_?" Fred's voice trembled with his shock. "Why would he do that? It makes no sense!"

"Had he been healthy, no, it would not, but the truth is that the curse in his hand was killing him, and Albus knew when he died that You-Know-Who would take over the school. He wanted someone he could trust to protect the students in charge, even if that person had to pretend to be evil, and so, he used Severus' vows against him. He broke Severus' heart, his honour, his soul, his reputation, and his life to use his own impending death to further the cause of the greater good. He left Severus alone and friendless at the darkest time of his life and doomed him…."

She sobbed. "Albus _knew_. He knew Severus would die for killing him, whether at our hands or the dark, and now, it is coming to pass. You-Know-Who is poisoning him through his mark. He is in a coma. Poppy has given him, at best, two weeks to live, with the latter week spent in excruciating agony. And there is nothing she can do."

"Oh _gods_," George gasped out. "Sweet Merlin! You… you're sure about all this, ma'am?"

"Absolutely sure."

"Damn," Fred breathed. "No one deserves that, least of all… gods, he's a ruddy hero and we've all been treating him like rubbish!"

"He won't hear any apologies or accolades," McGonagall said with a sad little laugh. "Merlin knows I tried to tell him. He laughed it off—laughed, while he knew he was dying!—and told me not to canonize him yet as he's still, quote, 'an irascible bastard.'"

The people around Harry gave chuckles choked with tears, but he couldn't breathe. Couldn't think beyond the raw, bitter hole in his chest. All this time, Snape had been a hero. His mind could barely comprehend it.

"He is dying," McGonagall said in a broken voice. "This selfless, unbelievably brave, brilliant man is dying a slow, miserable death, and there is nothing I can do but watch. He… do you know, he used the last of his strength to power the wards over the school? And, when we expressed concern, he told us not to weep for him. He said that, if he died while giving of himself to protect the school, then he would die content to know he had given all he could."

Hermione burst into tears, and if Harry hadn't been so numb, he might have done, too.

McGonagall took in another shaky breath. "But I cannot abide by that wish. I cannot stand by and do nothing. And so, I am here, to clear his name… and to beg for help. Harry, I know we have already asked too much of you, but you are the only one who might have the smallest chance of saving his life now. If you can find it in your heart to forgive him, or at least to try to spare a comrade in arms a terrible death, I am begging of you, please, try. I do not know what you can do, but… please, Harry. He needs you, desperately."

Oh gods. He couldn't bear it. With a shattered sob, Harry stood and raced out of the cottage.

* * *

**Chapter 10**

_A Darker Shade of Grey_

Harry paced up and down by the cliff, trying to sort out his muddled emotions. All this time, Snape had been a hero. All this time, Snape had been innocent.

And Dumbledore had hurt him, terribly. He had hurt them all.

In the cold moonlight, with Snape dying for his loyalty to the old bastard, everything Harry knew began to shift and turn inside out. Shite. How much of what he knew of himself, his life, his mission—_everything_—how much was true, and how much was manipulation and lies? Everything he had lived through, everything he had thought he knew… it all seemed grimmer from this side of the fence.

A letter to his relatives after dumping a child they would, naturally, be afraid and jealous of, now seemed pitifully inadequate. A shudder itched down his spine at the thought that said letter might have even _encouraged _them in that line of thinking. If Dumbledore could force a man who loved him as a father to kill him, and knowingly sentence his unfortunate protégé to die by the same turn, then Harry wouldn't put it past him to ensure Harry's life was as painful as possible. All for the sake of the greater good, of course.

Wouldn't want his little child weapon to have a _loving _family, now would he? No, then they might intercede when Dumbledore did mad things like force Harry into Occlumency lessons with an instructor who hated him—or not, as the case might turn out to be—or set him up to face Quirrell in his first year. Really, that had all been too convenient, looking back on it now. Harry felt like a fool for failing to put the pieces together this long.

Dumbledore really had wanted Harry raised as a weapon against evil, not a human child.

After all, lonely, unloved, abused young boys would be more likely to develop almost fanatical loyalty to a benevolent, kindly old man who offered him tea and biscuits and affection, treats and attention his loyal little weapon had never experienced before. That child wouldn't be likely to question why said old man singled him out of all his students and took an almost obsessive interest in his activities, all while being utterly neglectful in checking the boy's reckless behaviour. No, such a neglected child—a weapon—would just be glad that _someone _cared about him at last. Thankful.

_Indebted._

Perhaps enough to remain loyal after learning the old man knew of his relatives' abuse, but never lifted a finger to aid him.

Or after leaving Harry in that house alone for ten years without so much as a letter to ask how he was. Without ever once checking on his well-being.

Or after learning that the old man took such an obsessive interest in him because he expected Harry to defeat a master dark wizard hundreds of adults had tried, and failed, to kill. After learning of the prophecy that the old bastard had hidden from him for four years, too.

After watching his godfather, the last of his family who gave a toss about him, die because the old man hadn't revealed the entire prophecy to Harry or told him the true reason why he needed to take Occlumency seriously.

And even enough to stay loyal after the old man had set his boy weapon an impossible, dangerous task, alienated him from everyone who could help, and left him with absolutely no information on how to accomplish it. And that in the middle of a war, one with his face on front of all the wanted posters.

Dumbledore had been nearly as cruel to Harry as Voldemort. Maybe he was worse, because he hid his cruelty in kindness and false affection while letting others take the fall. At least Voldemort had always been up front in his desire to kill Harry.

In contrast, Snape's shouting and snarky comments seemed almost kind.

Had Dumbledore ordered Snape to be so rough with Harry in Occlumency lessons? Or did Snape really hate him? Harry's family had certainly given him cause, he supposed.

And there was another cruelty Dumbledore had never answered for. James Potter et al had come close to sexually assaulting Snape in that memory Harry had seen. He hadn't seen all of it, either. If James had stripped the boy in front of the entire fifth form, that crossed the line from bullying into assault. Especially if they hadn't stopped there, either.

Why had they never been punished? Even if they didn't strip him, they had still been allowed to bully him relentlessly for years, four on one, and that with a bloody prefect standing by and letting it happen!

Remus should have been stripped of his badge, much as Harry loved him. He hadn't done his job. He had allowed a fellow student to suffer and done nothing to relieve him.

Come to think of it… Remus probably would've been in big trouble had Dumbledore done his job. Sirius had nearly killed Snape by sending him in with Remus while he was Moony. The world would have known about the man's "furry little problem" a lot sooner than Harry's third year if Sirius had been disciplined like he should have been. Sirius wouldn't have graduated Hogwarts either. Premeditated attempted murder was _absolutely _against Hogwarts' rules.

Which meant Dumbledore had, again, done nothing. Worse, he must have forced Snape to keep quiet about the assault. The boy had almost died, and Dumbledore had punished _Snape_, not the one who had nearly killed him.

Why? Why go to such lengths to ignore the Marauders' abuses and alienate Snape?

Well, in the case of the Shrieking Shack, Dumbledore might have simply been trying to keep Remus from being killed for a crime he didn't consciously commit, but what about the other thousand and one times he should have disciplined them and didn't? Why would he ignore one student's suffering just to coddle a group of spoiled, arrogant bullies?

Harry could only think of two reasons, and neither improved his rapidly sinking opinion of the late headmaster. Either Dumbledore saw Snape as another weapon and wanted to make him strong the same way he did Harry, or he saw him as expendable in comparison to his would-be warriors of the Light. Lovely. Either way, he had played god with people's lives, but then, that shouldn't surprise Harry, now should it?

Regardless of Dumbledore's reasons, he had alienated Snape, a child in his care who had needed his help, and in doing so, he had also driven him straight to Riddle, probably. Who did Snape have left other than Dumbledore? Harry knew already from the pensieve that Snape wasn't popular even among his own house. He had seen as much green in the jeering crowd during Sev's assault as any other colour, after all, and that implied that Snape was entirely friendless. He had no one left in the world. And Dumbledore had failed to protect him again and again. Hell, Dumbledore might have _ensured _that Snape was left alone and unprotected. He had certainly done so the year before without a shred of remorse.

Was it any surprise Snape had turned to the dark when the Light had treated him like shite?

No. Dumbledore _was _fallible, and ruthless, frankly.

But where did that leave Snape? Was he really the hero McGonagall had made him out to be? Harry knew he was. But, just in case this was all a terrible mistake, he had to be sure.

"Kreacher."

The elf appeared and bowed to Harry. "What does master Harry wish of Kreacher?"

Harry took a deep breath. "Kreacher, you've seen Snape around the school, right?"

"Yes, Master."

"Well, McGonagall said he's _not _a traitor tonight. And I want to know what you've seen confirming or denying that claim."

Kreacher hesitated. "Kreacher himself has not seen much of Headmaster Snape's goodness, but the other elves is often talking about it in the kitchens, when there is no humans near."

Harry winced. One point in favour of Snape already.

"What have they said, Kreacher?"

"Tipsy be saying she saw Headmaster Snape ward the come and go room so the students is being safe there. And Muldy be saying he saw the headmaster make a deal with the goat man to keep the children fed when we's cannot reach them."

"The goat man?"

"Kreacher is not knowing much about him, Master Harry, but he is looking like the old headmaster and working in the Hogsmeade pub with a pig on the sign."

"Oh, the Hog's Head owner. I don't know much about him either. He's been feeding the students then?"

"Yes, master. We's be bringing food from the castle and making it there so the children can eat safely. Muldy says the headmaster is paying the goat man a lot of money so the goat man can afford to feed them and keep his pub."

Harry winced. "Merlin. Anything else?"

"Silvy says the headmaster is being keeping the Carrows away from the students. She is saying he spells them and makes them thinks the half-giant teacher is being cruel and evil and detentions with him are worse than theirs. And…."

Kreacher's ears drooped and he dropped his voice to a whisper. "Lolly is saying she is seeing the headmaster killing the Carrows last night while they is sleeping. She says Hogwarts was telling her not to stop him. Hogwarts says he is doing it to keep the students safe. Lolly says she is taking the bodies far, far away where's no one knows who they are."

"Sweet _Merlin_," Harry breathed.

"Yes. Kreacher not be knowing anything else from the other elves, but…." He rocked on his heels in a display of distress. "Kreacher is sometimes checking on the headmaster. Just to make sure he is not hurting master. And I… I's saw him crying, master, at his bedroom desk. Often. He is crying out and asking to be forgiven then. And… sometimes he asks Master Harry to forgive him while he cries."

Kreacher shook his head sadly. "Kreacher thinks he is not a traitor at all, Master Harry."

Harry sat back on his heels and buried his face in his hands. "Oh gods, oh _gods_! He really _is _innocent. He gave up _everything_ for us. And Riddle is killing him for it!"

"Kreacher is thinking he is doing it for master."

"Shite! For me? Merlin, that makes it even more awful."

Harry stood and paced. "Merlin, what do I do? McGonagall wants me to help, but how? What am I supposed to do? I don't know how to heal!" He took several calming breaths and turned to the distraught elf. "Kreacher, can you save him?"

Kreacher rocked again and twisted an ear. "Kreacher cannot. The evil snake tattoo is killing him, and Kreacher cannot be telling it to go away."

Harry froze. "Telling it to… wait. Are you saying a Parselmouth can remove the mark just by telling it to go away?"

"Kreacher is only an elf, master, but I thinks so."

"Oh, thank Merlin." Harry motioned to the house. "Thank you, Kreacher. Come with me. We have a headmaster to save and a horcrux to find, and I'll need all the help I can get."

Kreacher bowed and followed Harry inside.

Harry stormed into the house like a man on a mission. Well, he was. Just not the same mission as before.

"Everyone, pack up. We're going to Hogwarts. I'm going to save him or die trying."

"No dying, mate," said Ron, his eyes rimmed in pink, "but I think I understand what you mean."

He stood and started summoning their things, packing them all into Hermione's bag. Hermione helped as much as she could, as did Bill and Fleur.

"I think I should like to come as well," said Luna, "but would you mind sending Dobby after Draco first, Harry? The whittlewinds are telling me he's in pain."

"Shite!" Harry looked around for the elf, but he wasn't in sight. "Dobby!"

"How can Dobby be—"

"No time, Dobby. Go to Draco Malfoy—be careful not to be seen—and pop him straight to the Infirmary at Hogwarts, please. Hurry!"

Dobby bowed and popped away.

"Thank you, Harry," said Luna. "Are we going to save your Prince now?"

Harry choked. "Merlin, Luna. Last I heard, the man hated me…."

But that wasn't true, was it?

_"Kreacher thinks he is doing it for master."_

Heat suffused his cheeks. "Well, maybe not, but still, one thing at a time, Lu." He paused. "Wait. How did you know that Snape was the Half-Blood Prince? I never said."

She blinked wide eyes. "Oh. I didn't know he was."

He stared at her, gobsmacked. "Then why did you—"

"Harry," said Hermione, "in all likelihood, both Draco and Snape are close to dying this instant. Don't you think this discussion can wait?"

Harry's ears burned. "Er… right. Well, are we ready to go then?"

"All packed," said Ron.

"Have Kreacher pop you into the wards," said Bill. "There's a caterwauling charm on Hogsmeade, and it's after curfew. Plus, the girls are in no condition to walk."

"Right." Harry offered Kreacher a hand. "Get Ron and me to Draco and Snape first, then Luna and Hermione into beds in the Infirmary." He looked to the other residents. "Does anyone else want to go?"

"I believe the rest of us are more comfortable recovering away from the battle," said Ollivander, "but before you go, Harry, I think I must explain a few things about your wand and Riddle."

Harry frowned. "But my wand is broken."

"Ah, and did you not disarm Draco Malfoy when you attempted to save Miss Granger during your stay at Malfoy Manor?"

"Well, yes, but they didn't exactly allow us to keep it when they captured us again. Though Draco did bring us back everyone else's wands."

"And good thing he did, too, but Draco also disarmed Albus on the tower, did he not?"

Harry hesitated. "Sir, I'm not sure where you're going with this, but could you please make it quick? They're suffering."

Ollivander nodded. "You are aware of the significance of Albus' wand?"

Harry glanced around the room, remembered the history of the "deathstick," and decided to keep that secret to himself. "Yes, I know what it is."

"And you know that You-Know-Who has it now?"

"Yes, sir." Harry avoided tapping his foot in annoyance by sheer force of will.

"Also know this, Mister Potter. Wands are living things, in a way. They have a magic of their own. And while one _can _gain a wand's allegiance by killing its master, it is not the only way."

Hermione gasped. "Oh! Sir, are you saying…?"

Ollivander gave her a wry smile. "Your wand always did lend itself to a brilliant mind, Miss Granger."

Hermione flushed slightly. "Thank you, sir. I'll make sure they understand."

"See that you do. Good luck, Harry Potter."

Harry looked between them, bemused. "Er… thank you, sir. Um… are we ready to go now?"

Hermione nodded. "As soon as you and Kreacher are."

"Be careful," said Bill.

Fleur kissed all of them on the cheek, wished them good luck, and whispered to Harry before she moved away, "Do not be afraid to embrace what you want. We will be 'ere for you regardless."

Harry gave her a hesitant smile. "Thanks." He took Kreacher's hand once more and held his other out to Ron. "Kreacher, time to go."

With a snap of the elf's fingers, they were gone.

* * *

**Chapter 11**

_Heroic Homecoming_

If Severus had had any ability to move, he would have nearly jumped out of his skin when Dobby apparated into the Infirmary with a screaming Draco in tow. The boy's cries reverberated throughout Severus' already pounding skull, and he wanted to cry out himself at the additional pain. And Draco… _gods_. He was only seventeen, and though it had taken him a long time and a severe shock to find his bearings, he was a good sort now that Lovegood had helped him recover. He didn't deserve to die like this, like Severus did.

Damn. Severus had sacrificed himself so Draco would not suffer, and now, they were both lost.

So much for Albus' grand scheme.

_'Oh, Draco. Forgive me, little one. I shielded you while I could, but it is never enough, is it? Gods, I am so very sorry.'_

It hurt that he could not say it. That he couldn't hold his godson and make potions to save him. Or at least try.

His fate was more difficult to accept when he didn't face it alone.

"Sweet Circe!"

Poppy's heels clacked on the floor, phials clinked, and liquid moved about. A moment later, Draco stilled and went silent. Unconcious, perhaps, or paralysed.

Merlin help him, Severus wasn't sure he could face his fate with his godson dying beside him.

He listened in silent horror as Poppy bustled about, trying to heal the boy.

The elf piped up, "Dobby is bringing Draco for great master Harry Potter, sir. He is coming, soon, to save them."

Poppy barked, "Who is coming?"

"Great master Harry Potter sir, mistress Poppy. He is coming to help his Princey and Draco."

Poppy hesitated. "His Princey? Dare I ask?"

"Headmaster Snapey, mistress."

"Oh! But there is nothing to be done, Dobby."

"He is able to talk to the evil snake tattoos, mistress. I thinks he can do it."

Severus' breath hitched. Oh gods, was it possible?

For the first time in days, a tiny sliver of hope filled his heart. Hogwarts hugged him, and in her touch, he sensed her intent to aid him.

Tears slid down Severus' face. Harry, his charge and the one person he had treated the worst, was coming to save him. At least to try. And the school wanted to help him, though Harry probably wouldn't feel her yet. That took years of experience and training.

It was one hell of a long shot, but then, Harry lived to confound the odds. He might just pull it off. He might be able to save them after all.

More tears slipped down Severus' cheeks and temples, past his ears and into his hair.

Harry might save them, but Severus could do nothing to save Harry. That boy had a surer death sentence in his scar than had ever branded Severus' arm.

Severus couldn't move, see, or talk, but he could weep, and so he did.

_'Harry, I am so very sorry.'_

Severus had imagined Harry would be there immediately, but several moments passed in tense silence as Poppy tried to save Draco's life. Merlin, Severus hoped Harry hadn't gone through Hogsmeade. Severus had rendered the castle safe enough—for now—but even at full strength, he couldn't do the same for Hogsmeade.

He lay there, tense as a bowstring, frozen but for his breath, and waited.

The Infirmary doors opened, and Minerva strolled in. "Well, I have done what I c—Poppy? What is Draco doing here? Is he not loyal to You-Know-Who?"

Poppy sniffed. "Judging by the fact that You-Know-Who is trying to kill him the same way as Severus, only faster, I would say most assuredly not."

Severus wished he could explain.

"Oh _Merlin_," Minerva said, horrified. "Oh, the poor boy."

Severus hoped Draco hadn't heard that, or there would be hell to pay later. Gryffindors just didn't comprehend a Slytherin's innate loathing of being seen as weak. Vulnerability got compassion among lions. Among snakes, it could get one killed.

Severus, of course, had walked the edge of death long enough not to care any longer. He only wanted to be safe these days, and not alone.

At least he had the latter.

With a sigh, Minerva sat at Severus' bedside and took his hand. "I hope, Severus, that help is on the way. I have done my best, at least."

Severus wished he could squeeze her hand.

Minerva rubbed his temple. "Hmm." Carefully, she wiped the tear tracks from his temples and ears. "There you are. I hope that helps, if only a little."

Severus was simply reeling at the fact that she had cared enough to wipe away his tears.

Strange, how dying could render one worthy where one never had been before.

But no, that wasn't entirely true. Not with Minerva. She had loved him for years. Severus' apparent betrayal had broken her heart as much as Severus'. She had been so _angry_. So hurt. But then, so had he. Only he had not been free to show it.

Merlin, it had been a miserable year.

Another sharp pop startled him half out of his skin even if his body did no more than twitch.

"We're here," came Harry's voice, stronger and more certain than Severus had expected it to be. "I'm going to help Headmaster Snape now. Or try."

"Oh, thank Merlin," Minerva breathed.

Poppy called, "Harry, if you would, try to save Draco first. Severus still has some time, but Draco is dying fast. You-Know-Who must be furious with him to want him dead so badly."

Harry's trainers made little sound as he approached Draco's bedside. "Or he knows the headmaster is perfectly aware of what's happening to him and wants to draw out the torture."

_'Right in one, Harry.'_

'Well, thankfully, Severus is in a coma and unaware of his predicament, at least for now."

Severus wished he could snort.

"Come, hurry, Harry. This poison is spreading too fast."

"Merlin. Right away, ma'am."

Severus held his breath at the silence, then gasped, internally at least, as sibillant hissing sounded near Draco.

_"Hess sshy isss…." _Harry paused and spoke in English again. "Whoa! What the hell is _that_?"

"Language, Mister Potter," Poppy chided. "And what do you mean?"

"I dunno, ma'am. I just… right when I started talking in Parseltongue, there was this huge burst of power through me. Not _my _power either. It felt… warm."

Minerva gasped. "Hogwarts. The school is helping you, child. Hurry."

"Really? Sweet Merlin, that's brilliant. Might have a chance in… Hades of doing this then."

Severus' heart thumped. _'I'll be damned. He felt it. Gods.'_

It seemed Harry would never cease to amaze him.

Harry switched to Parseltongue again. _"Hesss ssshy isss! Hesss sssee sssith!"_

Severus had no idea what he was saying, but he couldn't help but fear it. Harry sounded angry and demanding, just as Riddle did when he used the snake tongue against his followers.

"Cold, Severus?"

Minerva spelled a blanket over him, and he realised he was trembling. Merlin.

Poppy gasped, and all sound vanished for a moment. Even Draco's struggles had ceased. Oh gods, was the boy dead already?

"Bless my soul," Poppy breathed. "It's gone?"

"Looks that way," said a relieved Harry. "Thank all the fates, I think so."

"Oh, Harry…." Poppy sounded overwhelmed.

"Right. Your turn, Headmaster."

Severus' breath stilled. Sweet Circe, the boy had done it. He had saved Draco. He might even manage to save Severus, too.

For that, Severus thought he could put up with a bit of angry Parseltongue.

"Professor, I'll need you to move, please. I need to get at his arm."

Minerva stood and moved to Severus' other side. "Take care, Harry. The skin is in awful shape."

"I hope Madam Pomfrey can heal it once the… oh Merlin."

Agony like liquid fire raced up Severus' arm and poured into his veins. He would have screamed if he had any capacity to. His body bowed and arched, his limbs flailed, his heart thudded in his ears.

The final stage. Gods help him now.

"Oh shite," Harry hissed. "He _knows_."

"Hurry, Harry," came Poppy's voice through a fog of agony. "He can't bear this level of pain for long."

"Right."

Harry took a firm hold of his left arm, but it jerked free without Severus' consent.

"Ma'am, I hate to ask this, but can you Petrify him, please? I can't work on it with him thrashing like this."

"Merlin. That will likely increase his pain, Harry. Hurry."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Forgive me, Severus. _Petrificus Totalis_!"

His body went rigid and locked into a supine position with his arms straight at his side and legs stretched to their full length.

Gods help him, without the ability to use movement to cope, the anguish multiplied tenfold. He couldn't think, couldn't breathe, his world shrunk and twisted into a seething mass of sheer, unadulterated agony. A scream escaped him, then another… his throat was soon raw with them.

His mind would snap like a twig soon in this kind of hell.

_'Please gods, make it stop.'_

Then, there was nothing. He thought, at first, that he had fallen unconscious. Then, he became aware of pressure on his chest and his right arm. Slowly, sounds began to filter through to him once again—Minerva was sobbing on his chest, and Harry was panting beside her. Poppy muttered spell after spell on his left, and slowly, the pain that remained in his arm and shoulder began to recede.

A calloused thumb swept along his palm, and Severus realised Harry was holding his hand.

"You're okay now, sir," the young man murmured, voice gentle and soothing. "You're safe. The poison is gone now, and Madam Pomfrey is healing the damage left behind. You're going to be okay."

Until Riddle began the next round. Harry might have stopped it for now, but Severus knew Riddle would find a way to attack again. As long as he remained bound to that monster, his life was in danger.

"He'll never hurt you again. Nor will anyone else. I won't let them."

Severus clung to the safe harbour those words offered like a drowning man, and, with his pain gone and his body exhausted from its too-close brush with death, Severus gave in to the siren call of rest.

* * *

Harry felt the tension go out of Snape's body and knew he had fallen unconscious. A spike of alarm shot through him. Despite the fact that Harry had removed his mark, the poison had done one hell of a number on him before Harry had won out over the mark. Riddle had fought tooth and nail to keep Severus in his control. In the end, Harry's love had won out over evil, but had he come too late?

Love. He remembered the not-so-subtle hints the women at Shell Cottage had thrown around lately and couldn't help but blush. Had they known something he hadn't?

Harry held Snape's strong hand in his own and examined it while the man slept. He mightn't get another opportunity to see them up close, after all.

Merlin. Snape mightn't have been the handsomest man around—though without his permanent scowl, he looked much better—but his hands were beautiful. Soft palms, pale skin, perfect nails, and long, elegant fingers. Lovely. Harry didn't even mind the faint potion stains on his fingertips. They marked his skill and told a story about his life. Harry rubbed the pads of his fingers and prayed he would have a happier life from now on. Perhaps with Harry and McGonagall to protect him, he would.

Ron's voice startled him out of his observation of Snape's hands. "So the girls might have been on to something then, yeah?"

Harry's face burned. "I… I don't know."

Ron stood at Harry's side and nudged his shoulder. "It's okay, you know. I'm not going to be angry or anything."

Harry swallowed a sudden lump in his throat. "Thanks, Ron. That means a lot. The honest truth is that I really don't know yet, though. It might all be moot anyway. I'm not the only person in this, after all."

Ron nodded. "Fair point. But, mate, if you can tear yourself away, I reckon we had best go meet the others. And Professor McGonagall needs to update the students. And evacuate the lower forms while there's still time."

McGonagall returned to the chair beside Snape's bed. "It is too late tonight to attend to the students, and whatever task you have planned can wait until morning, boys. We all have had a rough day, and we could use some sleep."

"I'm afraid we can't wait, ma'am," said Harry. "With their marks gone, Riddle will be furious. He'll be here soon with his entire army, and we need to be ready."

McGonagall winced. "He shan't get through the wards Severus set for quite a while, but just in case, perhaps you're right. Very well. I will send the house ghosts to wake their students and have them all gather in the Great Hall. You should gather your friends. They're all in hiding, but I'm not quite sure where."

"I know where they are, ma'am. I'll send them to you."

McGonagall chuckled wryly. "Of course you know. Why am I not surprised?"

Harry grinned. "No idea. Um, ma'am, will you tell the Grey Lady we need to speak with her once we're done?"

"The Grey Lady?"

"Yeah. It's important."

McGonagall gave them a searching look. "Very well. I will tell her to wait for you in the west vestibule off the Great Hall. Is that suitable?"

"As long as no one can overhear us there," Ron said.

"It is secure."

"That's good then," said Harry. "Thank you, ma'am."

Her expression softened. "I should be thanking you. You saved them, Harry. I… I cannot say how much it means to me."

"Yes, well done, Harry," said Hermione.

"It means a lot me as well," said Luna from Draco's bedside. "The blimblebears are very happy now."

Harry blinked. "Er… you're welcome?"

McGonagall snorted. "Off with you, Harry."

Harry nodded and led Ron out of the Infirmary.

* * *

The DA broke into cheers when Harry walked into the Room of Requirement. He had to force himself not to scowl. Not at his friends' welcome, but at the fact that they expected him to be a hero. Another cruelty he could thank Dumbledore for, at least in part.

Come to think of it….

"And here's the Defence Association all well… mostly… and ready to fight. Merlin, I'm glad to see you all."

In retrospect, he should have expected the thirty or so wands pointed directly at him.

Neville called in a harsh tone, "That is _not _what Harry called us."

Ron gave Harry an exasperated look. "Mate, I know you're hacked off at him, but you have to admit, that was stupid."

"Right." Harry sighed. "Dumbledore's Army then. As it happens, I've recently learned quite a bit about the old man, and, honestly, using his name for my friends and the soldiers I trained until this year is making me ill."

The wands didn't drop.

Ron hissed, "Harry, you prat. You're acting out of character. _Prove _who you are. Now."

"Shite."

Harry rubbed his brow in aggravation. If he hadn't been so blindly loyal, this wouldn't be a problem.

"Right. Well then, Neville, your toad is called Trevor and he has a tendency to run off to play in Umbridge's swamp and greenhouse five. Dean, you and Seamus aren't just _friends._" He grinned. "And Merlin, I'm glad you're okay."

Dean nodded. "You too, mate." Harry had the feeling Dean would be blushing if his skin tone allowed for it. Seamus certainly was.

"Colin, yes I did catch you trying to snap a photo of me coming out of the loo one day in fourth year. Did you think the fact that your camera broke that instant was an accident?"

Colin coughed. "Sorry, mate. Learned better since then, I hope."

"Glad to hear it." Harry have them a stern look. "Is that enough of your deep, dark secrets, or should I go on?"

Neville sighed and lowered his wand. "Stand down, you lot. It's Harry."

Harry nodded as they all relaxed, though they still looked confused. "Sorry about that. The fact is that while you've been in hiding here, you've missed a lot. It turns out that Dumbledick wasn't _nearly _as benevolent as he pretended to be, and he hurt me, a lot. And, believe it or not, he was even worse to Headmaster Snape. Who was innocent all along."

"_What_!"

Shouts and protests rang out everywhere, but none so loud and sharp as Neville's.

"_Innocent_?" He raised his shirt, revealing healing lash marks and angry red scars. "Does this look innocent to you?"

Harry sucked in a sharp breath. "Bloody hell, Neville. Who _did _that to you?"

"Snape did!"

Harry cringed, feeling ill. "He… he beat you?"

Neville paused. "Well, no, the Carrows did, but he sanctioned it."

"Ah." Harry felt somewhat better, if he still hurt for his friend. "Snape couldn't prevent everything, but he tried to shield you as much as he could without blowing his cover. He warded this room, confunded the Carrows to think Hagrid's detentions were worse than theirs, and paid the bloke at the Hog's Head to keep you fed to start with."

"Snape paid Aberforth?" Lavender frowned. "I thought he was just being nice."

"No, it takes money to feed you, and the Hog's Head isn't exactly rolling in galleons. He'd have gone under trying to cover it all on his own, so Snape gave him a small fortune to—but wait a tick. The bloke at the Hog's Head is Aberforth? Aberforth Dumbledore, Albus' brother?"

"Yeah," said Dean. "When we're hungry, he lets us into a secret room in the back through a big portrait of his sister." He frowned. "Come to think of it, I don't think Aberforth likes his brother much either."

"With good reason. Albus helped murder their sister while he was in a lover's quarrel with Grindelwald."

Mouths dropped all over.

"That's… it's not true, is it?" Neville's eyes nearly bugged out of his skull. "It was just more of Skeeter's nonsense, right?"

Harry glared. "Every word is true. I've seen quite a lot of it verified."

"He's telling the truth," Ron said with a grim nod.

"Merlin," Ginny breathed from her position at Neville's side. "He really killed Ariana?"

"Yeah. Well, they don't know for sure which one killed her, but it was at least partially his fault."

"Even so, Snape still let this happen, Harry." Neville motioned to his middle. "And he killed Dumbledore."

Harry snarled. "No, Dumbledore _forced _Snape to kill him against his will. One reason why I wanted a name change. The only people Snape has killed willingly, at least since becoming a spy, are the same people who gave you those scars."

Neville boggled. "You're mad."

"I'm not. The house elves could tell you. Ask Lolly. She saw him poison them. Hogwarts herself stopped her from interfering because she knew he was doing it to spare _you_."

Neville reeled backwards. "What? Hogwarts is a castle, mate."

Ron gave him a wide-eyed look. "And where did you hear all this about what Snape's been up to anyway?"

"I asked Kreacher. House elves see a lot more than we give them credit for." Harry turned to the others again. "And Hogwarts is sentient, Neville. I felt her myself in the Infirmary just now, when she helped me save Headmaster Snape and Draco Malfoy from being killed in agony for betraying _Riddle_, not us. You-Know-Who to you lot. Snape got caught as a spy two nights ago and nearly killed himself trying to protect the school while he was dying."

Neville took in a shaky breath. "Mate, I think you've been had. There's just… there's no way."

Harry shrugged. "Believe what you will, but I'm not the only one who saw it. McGonagall is the one who told us about that part, so go ask her yourself. You're supposed to go to the Great Hall anyway. It's time. Riddle will begin a siege soon, and we had best be ready. Lower forms too."

Neville stared at him a long moment. "All right. We'll go."

"Don't hurt Snape or Malfoy. I mean it. They're innocent, and they both saved our lives. Snape a thousand times over."

"I wouldn't anyway," Neville snapped. "I'm not like him!"

Ginny rubbed his back in sympathy. Harry didn't feel the slightest twinge of jealousy about it either.

Maybe the girls _had _been onto something earlier.

Harry sighed and waved the others on. "Just go talk to McGonagall, okay? You need to be there anyway, and the school is safe now." Thanks to Snape, but Harry didn't bother trying to beat the point into their skulls again. It would take them time to come to terms with it, just as it had for him.

"Fair enough. Army, out."

The others followed, their expressions full of varying degrees of anger and confusion. As long as they didn't hurt Snape, Harry would let them deal with it in their own time. It would happen one day, he was sure of it.

As the last person left, Harry closed the door behind them and nudged his friend's shoulder.

"Come on. Let's go talk to the Grey Lady now."

Ron shook his head wryly. "Sure, but you're something else, you know?"

Harry snorted, though not in mirth. "Part and parcel of being the bloody Chosen One, I suppose."

"Yeah." Ron gave him a worried look. "Harry? Can you tell me what Dumbledore did to hurt you?"

Harry nodded and crossed his arms over his chest. "Should have done years ago, probably. Your mum would've put him through the wringer. But I guess… I believed too much. And that's the problem. Just… it's hard to talk about, yeah? Don't hate me?"

Ron rubbed his shoulders. "I learned my lesson in the woods, Harry. We're brothers, you know. I should've remembered that. I'm sorry, you know? For leaving, and the awful shite I said to you."

"It's over now. Don't keep beating yourself up about it." Harry stuffed his hands in his pockets and sighed. "So, Dumbledore and me. I won't have time to tell you everything before we meet the Grey Lady, but I'll finish once we're done. Anyway, I guess it all started with the prophecy…."

* * *

**Chapter 12**

_A Line in the Sand_

The next time Severus woke, someone was stroking his hair and holding his hand. He wanted to learn into the touch, to at least open his eyes, but the poison had ravaged him too much. He was still paralyzed, if in far less pain.

"Ssh. It's all right. You're safe now."

Harry. Severus' heart thumped at the feel of his gentle, forgiving touch and the softness of his tone.

"No more nightmares for you, sir. Not while I'm here to stop them, anyway."

Severus might have smiled if he could make his facial muscles move. This was a happy dream, not a nightmare.

Gods, he had certainly become a sop, hadn't he?

Then again, was it so bad? He had spent too many years without touch. Decades without affection, or trust, or even a brush of a gentle hand. He was damn well tiredof being alone. If that made him a sop, so be it. There were worse things.

"I forgive you, you know," Harry murmured into the silence. "Even if you can't forgive me. And gods, I'm so bloody sorry."

Severus' breath hitched. He never imagined he would hear those words. Tears built under his lids, stinging, healing, and a great maw of love and grief split his chest wide open. Oh Merlin, forgiven!

He had never known absolution could feel so sweet. The relief was almost painful.

His tears dropped, and Harry gasped.

"Sir…." Harry brushed his tears away with a gentle hand, and the soft touch bid more to follow in his wake. If Severus had the power, he might have been sobbing.

At least his physical weakness had spared him that bit of embarrassment.

"Oh, sir. Are you awake? Are you in pain?"

Severus fought to squeeze Harry's hand, but only managed a slight twitch.

"Madam Pomfrey! I think he's in pain!"

Poppy came running, heels rapping out a sharp tap against the tile. A flow of warm magic embraced him, then she sighed in relief.

"He is not in pain, Harry, and he is recovering apace."

"But then, why…?"

Poppy paused. "Oh dear. I see what you mean. What did you last say to him?"

"Er, that I forgave him and I'm sorry."

"He is not in pain, Harry, but he can hear you. I imagine he is simply overwhelmed."

Harry let out a whoosh of air. "He heard me? You heard me, sir?"

Severus managed to twitch his fingers again.

"Oh, Merlin." Harry squeezed Severus' fingers. "It affects you so much, that I care?"

More tears dropped beyond all hope of control. Care. Merlin and Morgana, he couldn't believe… after everything he had done….

"Ssh. It's all right now. You're safe. I've got you."

_Gods. _Severus was going to break into pieces soon if this kept up.

"Harry," Poppy said, "why don't you tell him what's happened as of late, hmm? I'm sure he wants to know."

Another finger twitch confirmed it.

"He does, I think."

"Good. Then you work on getting him up to speed while I see about getting some strength into his muscles again and healing his nerves. Severus, if you can hear me, I'm going to spell some potions into you. Do you understand?"

He twitched his hand again.

"I'm pretty sure he's saying it's okay," Harry said. "I just felt his hand move."

Severus did it again.

"Yeah, that was an okay."

"Yes, I think he's trying to communicate the only way he's able to at the moment," Poppy explained. "Just keep holding his hand. I'll see what I can do to make him stronger."

"Not like that's a chore or anything," Ron Weasley teased from across the ward.

"Ron! Ssh!"

Severus wanted to chuckle at the obvious embarrassment in Harry's voice. He soothed the boy with another twitch.

"A-all right, sir, then here's what happened."

Severus listened to Harry explain about current events, most of which he had already heard about while lying paralyzed. That Neville had come to a grudging acceptance of his innocence came as a shock, however. Apparently Harry had been working on him while he slept.

"Right now, we're waiting for Riddle to show up. The lower forms have been evacuated to Beauxbatons for the moment, and those of the upper forms who didn't want to fight either went with them or returned home. So everyone left in the castle is a soldier for the Light, unless Draco doesn't want to fight."

_'Well done, Harry.'_

He tried to communicate his pride with a twitch, and found his fingers would now close around Harry's. He still could not open his eyes.

"Oh! He's doing better, Madam Pomfrey. He just squeezed my hand."

"Good. That means he'll recover soon. And we should let him rest."

"Oh. I guess I'll head back to the dorms so I don't bother you then, sir. Good—"

No. Severus didn't want to be alone. Never again. He closed his fingers on Harry's and refused to let go.

"Sir? I… you need me to stay?"

Severus squeezed harder.

"All right," Harry murmured. "Okay. I'm here."

Slender arms enfolded him, gently holding him close, and a fuzzy head nuzzled his cheek. "I'm here."

Severus couldn't breathe. The feel of Harry in his arms left him breathless and shaky. In case Harry misunderstood, he held the boy's hand tight and slowly rubbed his fingers.

_'Stay. Just like this. Stay.'_

Harry's breath hitched. "Sir, this is… okay?"

Severus forced his voice to work, if only in the barest whisper. "Harry… stay."

Harry caught him closer and breathed harshly into Severus' cheek. Was he crying, too?

"Yeah. Okay."

Yes, definitely crying. Merlin.

With no further preamble, Harry climbed right up into the bed beside Severus and cradled him close.

"_Mister _Potter," Poppy protested. "What do you think you are doing?"

"He asked me to stay, so I am." Harry squeezed Severus' hand and brought it to rest on his chest. "Do you need me to move?"

Move? Severus wanted him closer. His entire body screamed for the gentle affection and simple contact he had been denied for so long.

"Stay," he repeated.

Poppy huffed in annoyance. "Oh, very well. Just be respectful, Harry. He isn't well enough to consent to or even bear anything physical."

"Sweet _Merlin_, ma'am! I wasn't going to…."

"Just see that you don't." She walked away, leaving a shocked Severus and a thoroughly embarrassed Harry behind.

"Oh gods, I'm sorry, sir. I… I didn't mean…."

Across the ward, Weasley and Granger broke into snickers.

"Oi! Don't make this worse, you two. I _didn't_. I'm just trying to make him feel better."

"Methinks he doth protest too much," Granger said.

"What? 'Mione, please."

She chuckled. "Sorry, Harry. We're only teasing."

"Teasing he can _hear_, I'll remind you."

"It's quite all right, Harry," said Lovegood. "I don't think the headmaster minds."

Of course he didn't. He was only amazed that Harry didn't rage at his friends' insinuations.

"Hush, Harry."

Harry took a shaky breath. "Right. Supposed to be letting you rest." He eased Severus over so he lay against Harry's chest and wrapped him in his arms. "All right, sir?"

Severus trembled at the intimate position after so many years alone, and harder at what it implied. Harry couldn't possibly care for him, could he?

No, it was a fool's dream.

Still, he couldn't deny that he felt more at ease in Harry's arms than he had ever known. Sleep would come easily like this, he thought.

"Yes," he whispered, and curled the hand Harry had laid upon his chest into the young man's shirt.

"Good. Sleep then, sir. I'll keep you safe."

Severus thought he never had known what safety meant, until now. With a soft, contented sigh, Severus let himself relax and drift into dreams.

* * *

Harry thought a few hours must have passed before he next woke, but it was still too ruddy early. He rubbed his eyes and put on his glasses, trying to work out what had woken him. It was past dawn, at least, so at least Snape had had a few hours rest. He was still curled into Harry's arms, too. Merlin.

An annoyed huff sounded nearby, and Harry looked up to find Neville standing at the foot of the bed, giving Harry a disgusted look.

"You're in _bed _with him? Are you shagging? Is that why you're protecting him?"

"Oi," Ron said, irritated. So Neville coming in had woken him, too. "That's not on. Harry's not like that and you know it."

Well, likely the whole ward would soon be awake if this kept up.

Snape jolted awake, too, and Harry murmured an apology to him.

"Be still, sir." Harry slid out of his arms and positioned himself in front of Snape's bed. "Why are you here, Neville?"

The boy glared. "I came down to check on Hermione and Luna. McGonagall said they were hurt. Now, though, I think we need to talk more. Why, Harry? Why do you trust him?"

"You already know, Neville. McGonagall and I both told you."

Neville huffed. "I just… I can't believe it. Why do you want to protect him anyway? Even if he _is _innocent, he hates you, remember?"

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Does he? Didn't seem like it when he asked me to stay by his side earlier."

"Well, even so, how can you forgive him, just like that?"

"I just do."

"Why? I don't understand."

Harry sighed. "Look, Nev. I'll talk to you about it if you stop looking at him like you're going to tear him limb from limb and promise me you'll listen."

"I…."

"I will speak, too," Snape murmured, voice weak but audible. "If you wish to hear the truth from me."

"Hold that thought," said Pomfrey, who had just appeared from the other side of Draco's curtains. "You may speak about it, Severus, but only _after _I give you your next round of potions, and for no more than half an hour. Then, we shall need to get breakfast for you all."

Snape nodded weakly. Pomfrey spent the next few minutes flitting about while Harry and Neville watched, one irritated and one worried.

"There you are, boys." She gave Neville a stern look. "I understand that you are angry with the headmaster, and I understand why, but I'll remind you that this is an infirmary, and as of three hours ago, Severus nearly died for his efforts to protect the school. I will not deny you the time to clear the air, as it were, but I expect you to be considerate of the fact that he is my patient and quite ill. Do not upset him. Do I make myself clear?"

Neville nodded curtly.

"Good boy." Her expression softened. "Neville, you are a kind, honest young man with quite as much capacity for love and forgiveness as our Harry, and an even temper and fair judgment besides. Listen to the headmaster's story with as much fairmindedness as you have shown the rest of the world, please. That is all I ask."

Harry nodded. "Me too."

Neville sighed. "I… I'll try. It's just, he hurt us so much."

Pomfrey squeezed his shoulder. "Ask him how he feels about that, Neville, and why it happened. You might be surprised."

"All right, ma'am. I'll try."

"Thank you. I'll just be over here keeping an eye on Draco if you need me."

"Thanks."

Harry watched her walk away, then conjured a chair for Neville beside the bed. He hesitated as to where he should place himself, and in the end, decided to conjure one for himself between the two men. He had no idea which might need him more.

"Right," said Harry. "I'm going to give you a brief answer to your question first, Neville, then we'll let Headmaster Snape talk while he can. I'll explain more about me later."

Harry took Snape's hand to comfort them both. Snape brushed his thumb across Harry's knuckles, soothing the younger man.

"Right." Harry took a steadying breath. "The reason I find it easier to forgive the headmaster than I probably would otherwise is two-fold: first, I know him. Probably better than anyone here besides Madam Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall, and maybe Hagrid. We've shared memories, clashed over lessons and our pasts, and had more secrets between us than I wager any student and professor here before ever have done. And, while he isn't perfect and I hated him back then, from our first year, I knew he would protect me with his life."

"Why?"

"He saved my life from Quirrell's jinxed broom and risked his own life trying to figure out what the bastard was hiding all year. As Quirrell had Riddle's spirit pasted to the back of his skull, it wouldn't have gone well for the headmaster had Quirrell ever once suspected his loyalties."

Snape squeezed Harry's hand.

Neville nodded cautiously. "He was still awful to you."

"Yes. But as a dear friend pointed out to me recently, one can be a bastard without being evil."

Hermione chuckled from the next bed over. "You're welcome!"

Harry snorted and rubbed Snape's hand, hoping it comforted him.

Neville frowned. "All right. So what was the other reason?"

Harry breathed in deeply. "Because Headmaster Snape isn't the only one Dumbledore manipulated, neglected, abused, and left for dead repeatedly, all while stringing them along with false affection and free biscuits, and I know what it feels like."

Pomfrey dropped a potion phial and let out a sharp gasp. "Harry?"

Harry closed his eyes. "Ma'am, I… it's not something I'm prepared to talk about here with so many people about. But Headmaster Snape knows how bad it was. He can tell you later."

Snape paled. "Harry, I didn't know until your fifth year. And I reported what I saw to Albus. He told me he hadn't known either, and said he would make sure it stopped."

Harry snarled. "I might have known he'd do something like that. He lied, sir. He knew. I begged him every year to stay at Hogwarts. And Ron told me earlier that Mum Weasley reported my abuse to him in second year, when the twins rescued me. And second year was horrid. I might have died had the twins not come when they did."

Snape closed his eyes and lowered his head. "He knew. All this time, I have been serving and damning myself for a man who knowingly let a child be abused. Criminally so if they nearly killed you."

Harry caught Snape's hand against his heart. He hedged his reply carefully, but knew the former spy would understand.

"I'm sure I'm not the only one he allowed, or even _arranged _to suffer, either."

Snape squeezed Harry's hand. "No. You are not."

Neville fixed him with a piercing look. You as well, sir?"

Snape's throat bobbed. "I was… bullied, sexually assaulted, and nearly killed twice on school property. The perpetrators were never punished. Instead, I was forced to keep silent as to their identities and never speak of my suffering."

Harry went rigid. "Sir…?"

_'Twice?'_

Snape held Harry's gaze and slowly lowered his eyes. Damn. His family had nearly killed Snape the second time, too. Harry stood and paced.

"This isn't right. Dumbledore treated him like rubbish, and yet the world thinks Dumbledore is a hero! Gods, they're so far wrong. I don't know if it was because Dumbledore thought… the people who hurt Se—the headmaster were worth more to the light or because he wanted to make Headmaster Snape into another child weapon, but he was _horrid _to him!"

Harry turned to find everyone staring at him with wide eyes.

"A weapon, Harry?" Neville's voice was shaky. "That's what Dumbledore did to you? Turned you into a weapon?"

"Pretty much." Harry flopped down on Snape's bed with a sigh. "Maybe he did it to us both."

"Merlin," Hermione said with a sniffle. "I feel awful for both of you."

"I am mostly recovered," Snape said. "Or was. This new knowledge will take time to heal. At the moment, however, I would like to move on."

"Yeah," said Harry. "We don't need to open past wounds to prove Sev—er… sorry, Headmaster Snape is a good man that Dumbledore abused. At least, not that far into the past."

Snape beckoned Harry with a smile. "Call me Severus if you wish to. You were correct when you said we are… more than merely student and professor. We have too much shared pain not to be."

Harry reclined against Sn—Severus' headboard and guided him to rest against his chest again. "Not just pain anymore, Severus."

Severus smile grew. "No."

Harry suppressed the urge to kiss the top of his head, barely.

"Right. So that's why I'm able to forgive him, Neville. Among other things."

Neville nodded hesitantly. Much of the anger in his eyes had faded. "I think I understand. There's just one thing I want to know. I can guess why you were so awful to Harry as he's Riddle's number one enemy, but why were you so awful to me?"

Severus closed his eyes again. "Do you know, Neville, that you missed being the child of prophecy by _one day_? Only that and the fact that you were a pureblood kept the dark lord from marking you as his equal rather than Harry."

Neville gasped. "_What_?"

"The one with the power to defeat the dark lord will be born as the seventh month dies…." Harry shook his head sadly. "It's true, Neville."

"Merlin."

Severus lifted his head as much as he could manage. Harry helped sit him up, holding him against his chest.

"The truth is that I never hated you, Neville, not Harry, nor any other Gryffindor save for the four who abused me so badly. As I was the Light's only spy, however, I had no choice but to make you and everyone else believe I did. I… I regret it terribly. Particularly the pain I heaped upon Harry in Occlumency lessons and upon you this year, Neville, when I could not manage to drive the true demons away. I am far more remorseful than I am able to express."

Neville closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Did you really kill them?"

Severus nodded sharply. "And I make no apology. They would have killed me, then every Light oriented person in the school, and they would not have been humane about it either."

"No apology needed," Ron said with a huff. "You did us all a favour."

Neville nodded hesitantly. "Well, I don't know if I can honestly forgive you yet. But I'm not angry anymore. It just… it hurt."

"I know. I do not dare ask your forgiveness. You, most of all, suffered far too much."

Harry nudged Severus closer. "You have mine, if it helps."

"And mine, sir," said Hermione and Ron at once.

Ron squeezed Severus' shoulder. "We'll watch out for you, okay?"

Severus closed his eyes, and tears raced down his face. "Thank you."

The emotion in his words left Harry aching. How many years had he gone without this simple show of solidarity? How many long, lonely years had he spent in suffering, waiting to die alone?

That moment, Harry vowed to himself that Severus would never be alone again, if he could help it.

"I'm going to let you rest, sir." Neville stood and vanished his chair. "Thank you, though, for being so open with me. I have to admit, I wasn't expecting that kind of honesty from you."

"I have lived the past eighteen years as someone I am not," Severus said. "I shan't resurrect that cold, miserable bastard again."

"No," said Harry with a playful smile. "Now you're our irascible bastard."

"Harry!"

Severus ignored Pomfrey's reproach and chuckled. "He was joking, Poppy. I said much the same to Minerva yesterday. She must have mentioned it. And I think I do not mind that arrangement so much, Harry."

"Glad to hear it." Neville nodded to them all and left. Harry watched him go, hoping that one day, both of his friends—all of them, really—could heal.

At least they had a fighting chance now that Dumbledore wasn't there to muck about with everyone's lives.

* * *

**Chapter 13**

_A Ray of Hope_

Severus watched Neville leave and hoped, one day, he could make his sins up to him. Perhaps if he offered to tutor him in potions properly, at least the theory—which would benefit a future herbologist—might go some small way towards healing the breach. It was a start anyway.

If only he had such time to make it up to Harry, but no. He had to enjoy Harry's presence while he could. Every second was a gift.

Harry hadn't much time left to spare.

"Well," said Harry into a long silence, "that was painful, but at least he understands now."

"Yes." Severus tried to smile even as he sent Harry away to do what he must. "Will you return to your mission now?"

Harry shook his head. "Actually, I fancy a rest now that it's done. At least as much as it can be until Riddle attacks. Didn't I tell you last night? Well, maybe you had fallen asleep by then. You were having some trouble staying awake by the end."

Finished. So Severus had even less time than he had supposed. Gods. The idea hurt like hell. So few people had ever cared for him, and none like this.

Merlin help him, he would be lost without this sweet, forgiving young man in his life.

Harry took a miniaturized crown out of his pocket and resized it. It had a silver band shaped like a stylized eagle and a bright blue topaz at the centre.

"See? All clean, and this was the last besides Nagini. I've little else to do besides train, and I'm honestly not in the condition at the moment. So I can sit with you while you rest and help you with breakfast, if you want me to."

Severus stared at the diadem, eyes wide, heart thundering in his ears.

_Cleaned_, not destroyed?

"This… it was…?"

"One of the _artefacts_, yes. It's clear now. Can't you tell?"

Severus lifted a shaking hand and sent a wave of magic out. It truly was clean.

Oh gods. Was it possible?

"There is not an ounce of dark magic on this. You are quite certain it was…?"

"Yeah. Riddle liked to use famous artefacts of the founders. Slytherin's locket is a loss, but we were able to clean Hufflepuff's cup."

"And you got You-Know-Who and the Lestranges blacklisted from Gringotts while doing it, too," said Ron with a snicker.

Harry grinned. "Sure did. Remind me never to steal anything around goblins. They were _furious _when they knew."

"As well they should be," said Hermione with a huff.

"Harry," Severus prompted, "the tiara?"

Harry gave him a sheepish smile. "Right. Well, this is Ravenclaw's lost diadem."

Poppy and Severus gasped.

"_How_?" Severus stared at the tiara in awe. Sweet Merlin and Morgana, it had been missing for nearly a millennium! "How did you find it and how did you remove the… curse?"

Harry chuckled wryly. "Funny story, that. You see, Riddle actually found it first. Sweet-talked the details out of a descendant of Ravenclaw and tracked it to Albania. It's dangerous. An instant blast of superhuman knowledge at your fingertips? Too tempting. The Ravenclaw line thought it should _stay _lost, you know? The one who lost it stole it, then got stabbed by her lover over it, then said lover killed himself right after she died, so it was probably a good thing it stayed lost so long."

"Merlin, Harry!" Hermione gave him a wide-eyed stare. "How in the name of Morgana did you learn all that?"

"Talked to the same descendant Riddle did. Don't you remember?" He shot her a pleading look, his thoughts loud in Severus' ears. _[I promised I wouldn't tell, 'Mione.]_

She blinked. "Talked to…? Oh. Oh, I see. Yes, I remember now. Go on."

He sighed, tension bleeding from his frame. "Right. Well, once Riddle used what little that descendant was able to reveal to track the diadem, he brought it here after cursing it. I think it must have been when he cursed the DADA position. Anyway, he hid it in the room of hidden things in the Room of Requirement."

"How did you work _that _out?" Granger glared ar the tiara and pouted a little. "This is a _huge _castle. Even with knowing he probably hid it here, I expected it to take weeks to find, if not longer. How in Merlin's name did you work it out so fast?"

Harry chuckled and raked a hand through his hair. "It's all Severus' fault, actually."

Severus gave him a bemused look. "I had no idea where this was, Harry. I might have fallen prey to temptation before now if I had. I was quite desperate to find a way to kill the bastard before he killed us all." And now that he had found it, he wished he hadn't.

Gods, he didn't want to lose Harry. Did he dare begin to hope that he might not have to say goodbye?

Harry brushed a lock of Severus' hair behind his ear, causing the older man to catch his breath. "It's all right, Severus. We know how to beat him now. It's almost over. We just have to keep the castle safe while I get some training and recovery time in and work out a plan. The rest is all ready to go."

Severus closed his eyes to hide a welling of tears he couldn't stop. Gods, he didn't want to let Harry go.

"Yes." His voice came out too rough.

Harry cupped Severus' cheek and ear and traced his thumb over Severus' cheekbone.

_Oh._

Severus wanted to bask in the feel of such a soft, intimate touch. He stared into Harry's gorgeous eyes, heart pounding and breath tight in his chest. He wanted to lean closer, to breathe him in, but only dared to take comfort in the softness of his gaze.

Merlin, he could hardly breathe. He had never felt such wonder before, almost childlike in its purity. He had never felt such fear, knowing that unless the tiara offered some hope to save Harry, too, this could only be a transient moment. Ephemeral and shortlived as the kiss of a butterfly's wings. Beautiful, but doomed.

Merlin help him, he couldn't bear the bitter irony, the despair and clinging hope warring within him. Would fate be so cruel as to crush this… bond between them? After a life utterly devoid of love and twenty-five years of desolation and pain, had he truly found the one person willing to hold him gently and look at him as if he was precious… welcomed… _wanted_… had he truly found such beauty and comfort just in time to lose it all?

He opened tear-blinded eyes to stare at the bluish blur of the diadem. _Clean, not destroyed. _Was there any hope to save this nascent bond blossoming between them, to save Harry, before the war crushed him under its heels and left Severus a broken man all over again?

_'Please, if anyone out there cares for us at all, please let this be real. Please let there be a way to spare him.'_

"Ssh." Harry's thumb tracked through the tears Severus couldn't check. "Hey, it's all right now. It's almost over. It's going to be okay."

Gods, Severus hoped that, this once, those words would prove more than the impossible, sentimental words of the hopelessly naïve. Just once, he prayed he had a reason to hope.

"Severus, what's wrong? Are you okay?"

At the concern in Harry's voice, Severus forced himself to pull it together.

"Yes, Harry. Forgive me. It is only that, for the first time in decades, I have hope that the end is in sight." Gods, he hoped it wasn't a terrible end, too.

Harry gave him a soft smile. "Yeah. It's going to be okay. We'll make sure of it, yeah?"

Perhaps if they fought for the hope of those words together, they might be more than a fool's dream after all.

Severus turned his face into Harry's hand and whispered, "Yes. We shall."

He would damn well do his best anyway.

When he opened his eyes again, Harry's expression held a warmth and welcome Severus had never dreamed he would find anywhere, much less in the arms of one he had hurt so much. His cheeks warmed in spite of the long years he had spent training away such telling emotional responses.

Then again, he wasn't Occluding now, was he?

Granger cleared her throat, and the spell was broken. "Ahem. So how precisely is it the headmaster's fault that you knew where the diadem was, Harry?"

Severus suppressed a flinch and turned to look at Harry's friends. He had expected scorn, or at least worry, but their faces only held wry amusement. Did they know? Or was Severus reading too much in Harry's eyes?

It must be the latter. Harry was young, beautiful, and a wonderful person. He could have his pick of partners. And hadn't he been involved with the Weasley girl? Well, Severus knew for a fact that relationship wouldn't rekindle, but it certainly spoke to Harry's preferences that it had happened at all.

Perhaps he should be grateful for the boy's friendship and stop letting himself believe in things that we never meant for men like him.

With a sad little smile for what would never be, he nudged Harry on with his tale, too.

"Yes, Harry, do explain how I caused you to find an ancient relic I did not know was anywhere near us."

Harry chuckled, cheeks faintly red. "Well, you remember how you demanded your potions book back after I cursed Malfoy last year like a ruddy idiot? I didn't want to give it back. I liked the Prince, you see, and I knew I hadn't a hope of passing NEWT level potions without your 'help.'"

"You are more skilled in the art than I have led you to believe, Harry," Severus said, "but I would be happy to tutor you in the future if you still wish to pursue it."

_'And if we both survive,' _was left unsaid.

"Really?" Harry grinned. "Wicked. I'd love that, Severus."

"Then it is settled. Now, the diadem?"

"Right. Well, I ran to the Room of Requirement and asked it for a safe place to hide my book. It led me into this giant room with stacks of random junk everywhere. It just so happens that I hid your old potions book in the same vanishing cabinet Malfoy was working on, and the diadem was sitting right beside it. I remembered it as soon as the descendant told me about it. I actually had it in my hands! Thank goodness it didn't have… er… a touch-activated curse on it like the ring."

Severus snorted wryly. "Indeed. Merlin, Harry. You have the strangest luck."

Harry laughed and rubbed the back of his neck. "Reckon that's good for us, yeah?"

"True. And the _other _curse?"

"Ask Bill. He removed it."

Severus gasped. "You truly removed it? I thought you had to destroy the item."

Harry huffed, expression full of irritation. "Yeah. So did we, no thanks to Dumbledore. S'why Slytherin's locket is gone —we killed it with the sword that night you brought it to us, but then we had no idea what to do about the cup."

Harry glared at the diadem. "The old goat told us not to tell anyone, but we were stuck. The cup was in the Lestrange vault and we couldn't get to it alone."

"So you told Bill against Albus' advice?"

"Yeah, and bound the secret to a _Fidelius _on _Bill's_ advice, like we should've done to start. It's my secret now. Anyway, it turns out that all senior cursebreakers know how to remove the curses without harming the vessel. See for yourself." He handed Severus the diadem. "It's not even scratched!"

Severus' breath hitched. "Not even scratched…."

"Not a bit."

Severus stared at the diadem, tears building on his lashes and hope bubbling, effervescent and light, in his chest. This was the answer. Bill could save Harry.

Gods help him, Harry would _live_!

He looked up to find Harry watching him warily, as if he worried the diadem might tempt him. The diadem? Paugh! Severus had no need for magically-enhanced knowledge. He had intelligence enough without a fancy crown, and Harry was a far greater gift regardless.

Man's greatest treasure had nothing to do with wit beyond measure.

Severus set the diadem aside and threw his arms around Harry, crying onto his shoulder. Gods, he was so emotional as of late, but then, everything had been so dire for so long, and now it was beautiful again. Perhaps he could be forgiven a few tears, in light of all that he had lost and gained in the past four days?

Merlin, had it been only four days? To Severus, it seemed a lifetime had passed in that short time. He had been ready to die, but fate, and Harry Potter, had given him another chance.

Now, he would have a lifetime to give back for all his role had forced him to take, for all he had taken on his own will before becoming a spy. He would have a lifetime to learn how to be a friend, a teacher, a healer, and a better man. He would _finally_, after two decades of serving two opposing masters, either one as cruel and ruthless as the other, have a life to live by his own terms.

And, by gods, so would Harry.

"Oh, Harry! Oh gods."

Harry's voice came out shaky with panic. "Severus? Merlin, what did I do?"

"Hope, Harry. You gave me hope." Severus hugged him so tight, he could hardly breathe. He had never felt anything so wonderful before. Hope… sweet Merlin, it was a beautiful thing.

"Oh, Harry. Oh thank the fates. It might… we might just have a hope in hell of surviving this now."

Harry moved as if coming out of a daze and hugged Severus back. Someone took the diadem, but Severus didn't care. Harry would survive! Bill had known the way to save him all along.

A sudden chill enveloped his heart. Bill knew how to save Harry, but Severus had nearly sent him to his death anyway.

Dear gods. Albus' bloody minded manipulation and secrets might have cost them everything. The old bastard might have cost them _Harry_.

Tears choked Severus as he realised how close he had come to losing the biggest miracle of his life.

"Harry, Harry…." Harry's shirt muffled his breathless whispers. "Oh gods, Harry…."

"Shh, shh." Harry cradled Severus against him and rocked him in his arms a little. "That's right. It's going to be okay. We're both going to pull through this. And when it's over, we're going to celebrate together. Get a drink and show the world that we're friends. That you were a hero all along."

Friends. Thank Merlin, Morgana, and all the fates, they could be friends now. They had all the time in the world.

They still had Riddle and his pet to deal with, of course, but now that the looming death sentence over their heads was gone, they had a bloody chance at least. And, once Severus recovered, he would make damn sure they took advantage of it.

They would survive. One day, this would all be a bad dream. He believed it at last

"Yes. I… I would like that."

"It's settled then," said Harry with a playful note.

"Yes." Severus whispered, "Stay, Harry. Please. Don't leave me."

"Gods." Harry blinked back tears of his own and lay beside Severus, clutching him in his arms. "I'm here. Right here with you. It's going to be okay."

Yes. It _would _be okay, soon. As Harry had said, they would make sure of it.

Severus buried his face in Harry's neck and wept like he never had before. For Albus' betrayal. For Neville and his peers' pain. For his own guilt and remorse. And for the sheer wonder and relief that Harry was with him, and the dark shadow of death that had followed them both around so long had finally gone.

The dark clouds had finally lifted, and a ray of light had filtered through the grey.

Gods, it was a beautiful feeling.

Hogwarts wrapped them both in a gentle hug, soothing their fractious emotions, and Severus came up from his grief to find Harry had been crying, too.

Harry smiled weakly and brushed Severus' hair off his face. "Feeling a little better now?"

"Yes. Much. Forgive me."

"Nothing to forgive. I was crying, too. I reckon we both needed it."

Severus nodded and returned his head to Harry's shoulder. "Will you stay?"

"Hmm. Madam Pomfrey said while you were grieving that we need to sleep, and she'll bring us a spot of breakfast once we've had time to calm down and kip a bit. I think I'll sleep better right here, where we can keep each other out of nightmares. Sound good to you?"

Severus smiled into Harry's damp shirt. "It sounds lovely."

Harry cuddled him close and pulled a blanket over them. "Sleep then, Severus, if you can. I'm right here with you."

Severus nodded and let himself drift. Just as he had begun to dream, he woke up enough to murmur, "Harry?"

His companion mumbled in a sleepy voice, "Hmm? You okay, Sev'rus?"

He had never heard his name shortened in such a manner and found it endearing. He wanted to hear it again. More sleepy mumbles from this beautiful, wonderful man.

"I am with you, too. I am here for you, should you ever need me."

"Mm, good. Want you here." Harry brushed a half-asleep kiss across Severus' forehead and was out in seconds. Severus' face burned, and he thrilled at the feel of that soft touch for a long time, but eventually, he, too, succumbed to dreams.

_Happy _dreams. It was such a sweet relief, Severus might have cried again, had he not been fast asleep in Harry's arms.


End file.
